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MY   LORD   DUKE 


By    E.   W.    HORNUNG. 


THE   ROGUE'S    MARCH.     A  Romance.     l2mo.     $1.50. 

A    BRIDE  FROM    THE    BUSH.      [Ivory  Series.]     l6mo. 
75  cents. 

IRRAELI'S    BUSHRANGER.     A  Story  of  Australian  Ad- 
venture.    [Ivory  Series.]     l6mo.     75  cents. 


MY   LORD    DUKE 


BY 

E.   W.    HORNUNG 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1897 


COPYRIGHT,   1897,   BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


NottoooH  i3«8B 

J.  S.  Cuflhiiig  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 

Norwood  Masi.  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTBE 


PAOB 


.  I. 

The  Head  of  the  Family 

1 

II. 

"  Happy  Jack  " 

16 

m. 

A  Chance  Lost 

.      31 

IV. 

Not  in  the  Programme    . 

44 

V. 

With  the  Elect         .... 

63 

VI. 

A  New  Leaf 

.      77 

VII. 

The  Duke's  Progress 

90 

VIII. 

The  Old  Adam 

105 

IX. 

An  Anonymous  Letter 

.     122 

X. 

"Dead  Nuts" 

.     137 

XI. 

The  Night  of  the  Twentieth 

151 

xu. 

The  Wrong  Man       .... 

.    163 

XIII. 

The  Interregnum       .... 

.     180 

XIV. 

Jack  and  his  Master 

189 

XV. 

End  of  the  Interregnum 

199 

XVI. 

"  Love  the  Gift  "      .        .        .        . 

215 

VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XVII.  An  Anti-Toxine 

XVIII.  Heckling  a  Minister     . 

XIX.  The  Cat  and  the  Mouse 

XX.  "  Love  the  Debt  "  . 

XXI.  The  Bar  Sinister  . 

XXII.  De  Mortuis 


PAGB 

223 
233 
244 
257 
266 
282 


MY   LORD   DUKE 


MY  LORD  DUKE 

CHAPTER   I 

THE   HEAD   OF   TBTE  FAISIILY 

The  Home  Secretary  leant  his  golf-clubs 
against  a  chair.  His  was  the  longest  face  of 
all. 

"I  am  only  sorry  it  should  have  come  now," 
said  Claude  apologetically. 

"  Just  as  we  were  starting  for  the  links !  Our 
first  day,  too  !  "  muttered  the  Home  Secretary. 

"J  think  of  Claude,"  remarked  his  wife.  "I 
can  never  tell  you,  Claude,  how  much  I  feel  for 
you !  We  shall  miss  you  dreadfully,  of  course  ; 
but  we  couldn't  expect  to  enjoy  ourselves  after 
this;  and  I  think,  in  the  circumstances,  that 
you  are  quite  right  to  go  up  to  town  at  once." 

"  Why  ?  "  cried  the  Home  Secretary  warmly. 
"  What  good  can  he  do  in  the  Easter  holidays  ? 
Everybody  will  be  away  ;  he'd  much  better  come 
with  me  and  fill  his  lungs  with  fresh  air." 


2  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"I  can  never  tell  you  how  much  I  feel  for 
you,"  repeated  Lady  Caroline  to  Claude  Lafont. 

"Nor  I,"  said  Olivia.  "It's  too  horrible!  I 
don't  believe  it.  To  think  of  their  iSnding  him 
after  all !  I  don't  believe  they  have  found  him. 
You've  made  some  mistake,  Claude.  You've 
forgotten  your  code ;  the  cable  really  means 
that  they've  not  found  him,  and  are  giving  up 
the  search ! " 

Claude  Lafont  shook  his  head. 

"  There  may  be  something  in  what  Olivia 
says,"  remarked  the  Home  Secretary.  "  The 
mistake  may  have  been  made  at  the  other  end. 
It  would  bear  talking  over  on  the  links." 

Claude  shook  his  head  again. 

"  We  have  no  reason  to  suppose  there  has 
been  a  mistake  at  all,  Mr.  Sellvvood.  Cripps 
is  not  the  kind  of  man  to  make  mistakes ;  and 
I  can  swear  to  my  code.  The  word  means, 
'  Duke  found  —  I  sail  with  him  at  once.'  " 

"  An  Australian  Duke  !  "  exclaimed  Olivia. 

"  A  blackamoor,  no  doubt,"  said  Lady  Caro- 
line with  conviction. 

"Your  kinsman,  in  any  case,"  said  Claude 
Lafont,  laughing ;  "  and  my  cousin ;  and  the 
head  of  the  family  from  this  day  forth." 

"  It  was  madness  !  "  cried  Lady  Caroline 
softly.     "  Simple   madness  —  but  then   all  you 


THE  HEAD   OF   THE   FAMILY  3 

poets  are  mad !  Excuse  me,  Claude,  but  you 
remind  me  of  the  Lafont  blood  in  my  own 
veins  —  you  make  it  boil.  I  feel  as  if  I  never 
could  forgive  you !  To  turn  up  your  nose  at 
one  of  the  oldest  titles  in  the  three  kingdoms ; 
to  think  twice  about  a  purely  hypothetical  heir 
at  the  antipodes ;  and  actually  to  send  out 
your  solicitor  to  hunt  him  up !  If  that  was 
not  Quixotic  lunacj'^,  I  should  like  to  know 
what  is  ?  " 

The  Right  Honourable  George  Sellwood  took 
a  new  golf-ball  from  his  pocket,  and  bowed  his 
white  head  mournfully  as  he  stripped  off  the 
tissue  paper. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Caroline,  noblesse  ohlige  — 
and  a  man  must  do  his  obvious  duty,"  he  heard 
Claude  saying,  in  his  slightly  pedantic  fashion. 
"  Besides,  I  should  have  cut  a  very  sorry  figure 
had  I  jumjDed  at  the  throne,  as  it  were,  and  sat 
there  until  I  was  turned  out.  One  knew  there 
had  been  an  heir  in  Australia ;  the  only  thing 
was  to  find  out  if  he  was  still  alive ;  and  Cripps 
has  done  so.  I'm  bound  to  say  I  had  given 
him  up.  Cripps  has  written  quite  hopelessly 
of  late.  He  must  have  found  the  scent  and 
followed  it  up  during  the  last  six  weeks ;  but 
in  another  six  he  will  be  here  to  tell  us  all 
about  it  —  and  we  shall  see  the  Duke.     Mean- 


4  MY  LORD   DUKE 

while,  pray  don't  waste  your  sympathies  upon 
me.     To  be   perfectly  frank,  this   is   in   many 
ways    a    relief    to    me  —  I    am    only    sorry    it 
has  come   now.     You  know  my  tastes ;  but  I 
have   hitherto  found   it  expedient  to   make   a 
little  secret  of   my   opinions.     Now,  however, 
there  can  be  no  harm  in  my  saying  that  they 
are  not  entirely  in  harmony  with  the  hereditary 
principle.     You  hold  up  your  hands,  dear  Lady 
Caroline,  but  I  assure  you  that  my  seat  in  the 
Upper  Chamber  would  have  been  a  seat  of  con- 
scientious  thorns.     In  fact  I  have  been  in   a 
difficulty,  ever   since  my  grandfather's   death, 
which  I  am  very  thankful  to   have  removed. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  love  my  —  may  I  say  my 
art?     And  luckily  I  have  enough  to  cultivate 
the  muse  on,  at  all  events,  the  best  of  oatmeal ; 
so  I  am  not  to  be   pitied.     A   good   quatrain, 
Olivia,  is  more  to  me  than  coronets ;  and  the 
society  of  my  literary  friends  is  dearer  to  my 
heart  than  that  of  all  the  peers  in  Christendom." 
Claude  was  a  poet ;  when  he  forgot  this  fact 
he  was  also  an  excellent  fellow.     His  affecta- 
tions ended  with  his  talk.     In  appearance  he 
was  distinctly  desirable.     He  had  long,  clean 
limbs,  a  handsome,  shaven,  mild-eyed  face,  and 
dark   hair   as   short   as   another's.      He  would 
have  made  an  admirable  Duke. 


THE   HEAD    OF   THE   FAMILY  5 

Mr.  Sellwood  looked  up  a  little  sharply  from 
his  dazzling  new  golf-ball. 

"  Why  go  to  town  at  all  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Well,  the  truth  is,  I  have  been  in  a  false  po- 
sition all  these  months,"  replied  Claude,  forget- 
ting his  poetry  and  becoming  natural  at  once. 
"  I  want  to  get  out  of  it  without  a  day's  unnec- 
essary delay.     This  thing  must  be  made  public." 

The  statesman  considered. 

"  I  suppose  it  must,"  said  he,  judicially. 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  Lady  Caroline,  looking 
from  Olivia  to  Claude.  "  The  sooner  the 
better." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  Home  Secretary.  "  It 
has  kept  nearly  a  year.  Surely  it  can  keep  an- 
other week?  Look  here,  my  good  fellow.  I 
come  down  here  expressly  to  play  golf  with 
you,  and  you  want  to  bunker  me  in  the  very 
house !  I  take  it  for  the  week  for  nothing  else, 
and  you  want  to  desert  me  the  very  first  morning. 
You  shan't  do  either,  so  that's  all  about  it." 

"  You're  a  perfect  tyrant !  "  cried  Lady  Caro- 
line. "  I'm  ashamed  of  you,  George ;  and  I 
hope  Claude  will  do  exactly  as  he  likes.  / 
shall  be  sorry  enough  to  lose  him,  goodness 
knows ! " 

"  So  shall  I,"  said  Olivia  simply. 

Lady  Caroline  shuddered. 


6  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  Look  at  the  day !  "  cried  Mr.  Sell  wood, 
jumping  up  with  his  pink  face  glowing  beneath 
his  virile  silver  hair.  "  Look  at  the  sea  !  Look 
at  the  sand  !  Look  at  the  sea-breeze  lifting  the 
very  carpet  under  our  feet!  Was  there  ever 
such  a  day  for  golf?" 

Claude  wavered  visibly. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Mr.  Sellwood,  catching  up 
his  clubs.  "I'm  awfully  sorry  for  you,  my 
boy.     But  come  on  !  " 

"You  will  have  to  give  in,  Claude,"  said 
Olivia,  who  loved  her  father. 

Lady  Caroline  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Of  course,"  said  she,  "I  hope  he  will;  still 
I  don't  think  our  own  selfish  considerations 
should  detain  him  against  his  better  judgment." 

"  I  am  eager  to  see  Cripps's  partners,"  said 
Claude  vacillating.  "They  may  know  more 
about  it." 

"  And  solicitors  are  such  trying  people,"  re- 
marked Lady  Caroline  sympathetically  ;  "  one 
always  does  want  to  see  them  personally,  to 
know  what  they  really  mean." 

"That's  what  I  feel,"  said  Claude. 

"But  what  on  earth  has  he  to  consult 
them  about  ?  "  demanded  the  Home  Secretary. 
"  Everything  will  keep  —  except  the  golf.  Be- 
sides, ray  dear  fellow,  you   are  perfectly  safe 


THE   HEAD   OF   THE   FAMILY  7 

in  the  hands  of  MaiUand,  Hollis,  Cripps  and 
Company.  A  fine  steady  firm,  and  yet  pushing 
too.  I  recollect  they  were  the  first  solicitors  in 
London  — " 

"  Were  !  "  said  his  wife  significantly. 

"To  supply  us  with  typewritten  briefs,  my 
love.  Now  there  is  little  else.  In  such  hands, 
my  dear  Claude,  your  interests  are  quite  un- 
dramatically  safe." 

"  Still,"  said  Claude,  "  it's  an  important  mat- 
ter; and  I  am,  after  all,  for  the  moment,  the 
head  of—" 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  you  are,"  cried  the  poli- 
tician, with  a  burst  of  that  hot  brutality  which 
had  formerly  made  him  the  wholesome  terror 
of  the  Junior  Bar ;  "  you're  a  confounded  minor 
Cockney  poet !  If  you  want  to  go  back  to  your 
putrid  midnight  oil,  go  back  to  it ;  if  you  want 
to  get  out  of  the  golf,  get  out  of  it !  I'm  off. 
I  shouldn't  like  to  be  rude  to  you,  Claude,  my 
boy,  and  I  may  be  if  I  remain.  No  doubt  I 
shall  be  able  to  pick  up  somebody  down  at  the 
links." 

Claude  struck  his  flag. 

A  minute  later,  Olivia,  from  the  broad  bay 
window,  watched  the  lank,  handsome  poet  and 
the  sturdy,  white-haired  statesman  hurrying 
along  the   Marina  arm-in-arm;   both  in  knick- 


8  MY  LORD  DUKE 

erbockers  and  Norfolk  jackets ;  and  each  carry- 
ing a  quiverful  of  golf-clubs  in  his  outer  hand. 

The  girl  was  lost  in  thought. 

"  Olivia,"  said  a  voice  behind  her,  "your  father 
behaved  like  a  brute  !  " 

"  I  didn't  think  so ;  it  was  all  in  good  part. 
And  it  will  do  him  so  much  good ! " 

"  Do  whom  ?  " 

"Poor  Claude!  Of  course  he  is  dreadfully 
cut  up." 

"Then  why  did  he  pretend  to  be  pleased?" 

"  That  was  his  pluck.  He  took  it  splendidly. 
I  never  admired  him  so  much  !  " 

Lady  Caroline  opened  her  mouth  to  speak,  but 
shut  it  again  without  a  word.  Her  daughter's 
slight  figure  was  silhouetted  against  the  middle 
window  of  the  bow ;  the  sun  put  a  golden  crown 
upon  the  fair  young  head;  yet  the  head  was 
bent,  and  the  girl's  whole  attitude  one  of  pity 
and  of  thought.  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood  rose 
quietly,  and  left  the  room. 

That  species  of  low  cunning,  which  was  one  of 
her  Ladyship's  traits,  had  placed  her  for  the  mo- 
ment in  a  rather  neat  dilemma.  Claude  Lafont 
had  east  poet's  eyes  at  Olivia  for  months  and 
years ;  and  for  weeks  and  months  Olivia's  mother 
had  wished  there  were  less  poetry  and  more  passion 
in  the  composition  of  that  aristocrat.    He  would 


THE  HEAD   OF   THE  FAMILY  9 

not  say  what  nobody  else,  not  even  Lady  Caro- 
line, could  say  for  hira.      He  was   content   to 
dangle  and  admire ;    he  had  called  Olivia  his 
"  faery  queen,"  with  his  lips  and  with  his  pen, 
in  private  and  in  print ;  but  he  had  betrayed  no 
immediate  desire  to  call  her   his  wife.     Lady 
Caroline  had  recommended  him  to  marry,  and 
he  had  denounced  marriage  as  "  the  death  of 
romance."     Quite  sure  in  her  own  mind  that 
she   was    dealing    with    none    other    than   the 
Duke  of  St.  Osmund's,  it  was  her  Ladyship  who 
had  planned  the  present  small  party  (which  her 
distinguished  husband  would  call  a  "foursome") 
for   the   Easter  Recess.     Flatly  disbelieving  in 
the  existence  of  the  alleged  Australian  heir,  she 
had  seen  the  merit  of  engaging  Olivia  to  Claude 
before  the  latter  assumed  his  title  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world.     That  the  title  was  his  to  assume, 
when  he  liked,  had  been  the  opinion  of  all  the 
Lafonts,  save    Claude    himself,  from   the  very 
first;  and,  when   it   suited  her.  Lady  Caroline 
Sellwood  was  very  well  pleased  to  consider  her- 
self a  Lafont.     In  point  of  fact,  her  mother  had 
borne  that  illustrious  name  before  her  marriage 
with  the  impecunious    Earl  Clennell  of  Bally- 
cawley ;  and  Lady  Caroline  was  herself  a  great- 
granddaughter  of   the   sixth   Duke  of   St.  Os- 
mund's. 


10  MY  LORD   DUKE 

The  sixth  Duke  (who  exerted  himself  to  make 
the  second  half  of  the  last  centuiy  rather  wick- 
eder than  the  first)  had  two  sons,  of  whom  her 
present  Ladyship's  grandfather  was  the  younger. 
The  elder  became  the  seventh  Duke,  and  begot 
the  eighth  (and  most  respectable)  Duke  of 
St.  Osmund's  —  the  aged  peer  lately  deceased. 
The  eighth  Duke,  again,  had  but  two  sons,  who 
both  predeceased  him.  These  two  sons  were, 
respectively,  Claude's  father  and  the  unmention- 
able Marquis  of  Maske.  The  Marquis  was  a 
man  after  the  heart  of  his  worst  ancestor,  a  fasci- 
nating blackguard,  neither  more  nor  less.  At 
twenty-four  he  had  raised  the  temperature  of 
his  native  air  to  a  degree  incompatible  with  his 
own  safety ;  and  had  fled  the  country  never  to 
return.  Word  of  his  death  was  received  from 
Australia  in  the  year  1866.  He  had  died  horri- 
bly, from  thirst  in  the  wilderness,  and  yet  a 
proper  compassion  was  impossible  even  after 
that.  For  the  news  was  accompanied  by  a 
letter  from  the  dead  man's  hand  —  scrawled  at 
his  last  gasp,  and  pinned  with  his  knife  to  the 
tree  under  which  the  body  was  found  —  yet 
composed  in  a  vein  of  revolting  cynicism,  and 
containing  further  news  of  the  most  embarrass- 
ing description.  The  Marquis  was  leaving  be- 
hind  him  —  somewhere    in   Australia  —  at  the 


THE  HEAD   OF  THE  FAMILY  H 

moment  he  really  could  not  say  where  —  a  small 
Viscount  Dillamore  to  inherit  ultimately  the 
title  and  estates.  He  gave  no  dates,  but  said 
his  wife  was  dead.  To  the  best  of  his  belief, 
however,  the  lad  was  alive ;  and  might  be 
known  by  the  French  eagle  of  the  Lafonts, 
which  the  father  had  himself  tattooed  upon  his 
little  chest. 

This  was  all  the  clue  which  had  been  left  to 
Claude,  to  follow  on  a  bad  man's  bare  word,  or 
to  ignore  at  his  own  discretion.  For  reasons 
best  known  to  himself,  the  old  Duke  had  taken 
no  steps  to  discover  the  little  Marquis.  Un- 
luckily, however,  his  late  Grace  had  not  been 
entirely  himself  for  many  years  before  his  death ; 
and  those  reasons  had  never  transpired.  Claude, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  a  man  of  fastidious 
temperament,  a  person  of  infinite  scruples,  with 
a  morbid  horror  of  the  incorrect.  He  would 
spend  half  the  morning  deciding  between  a 
semicolon  and  a  full  stop  ;  and  he  was  consist- 
ently conscientious  in  matters  of  real  moment, 
as,  for  example,  in  that  of  his  marriage.  He 
had  been  asking  himself,  for  quite  a  twelve- 
month, whether  he  really  loved  Olivia ;  he  had 
no  intention  of  asking  her  until  he  was  quite 
convinced  on  the  point.  To  such  a  man  there 
was  but  one  course  possible  on  the   old  Duke's 


12  MY  LORD  DUKE 

death.  And  Claude  had  taken  it  with  the 
worst  results. 

"  He  has  no  sympathy  for  we,"  said  Lady 
Caroline  bitterly,  as  she  went  upstairs.  "He 
has  cut  his  own  throat,  and  there's  an  end  of  it ; 
except  that  if  he  thinks  he's  going  to  marry  any 
daughter  of  mine,  after  this,  he  is  very  much 
mistaken." 

It  was  extremely  mortifying  all  the  same  ;  to 
have  prepared  the  ground  so  carefully,  to  have 
arranged  every  preliminary  for  a  match  which 
had  now  to  be  abandoned  altogether ;  and  worse 
still,  to  have  turned  away  half  the  eligible 
young  men  in  town  for  the  sake  of  a  Duke  who 
was  not  a  Duke  at  all.  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood 
had  three  daughters.  The  eldest  had  made  a 
good,  solid,  military  marriage,  and  enjoyed  in 
India  a  social  position  that  was  not  unworthy  of 
her.  The  second  daughter  had  not  done  quite 
so  well ;  still,  her  husband,  the  Rev.  Francis 
Freke,  was  a  divine  whose  birth  was  better  than 
his  attainments,  so  that  there  was  every  chance 
of  seeing  his  little  legs  in  gaiters  before  either 
foot  was  in  his  grave.  But  Olivia  was  her 
youngest  ("  my  ewe  lamb,"  Lady  Caroline  used 
to  call  her,  although  no  other  kind  had  graced 
her  fold),  and  in  her  mother's  opinion  she  was 
fitted   for  a   better  fate    than   that  which  had 


THE  HEAD   OF   THE  FAMILY  13 

befallen  either  of  her  sisters.  Olivia  was  the 
prettiest  of  the  three.  Her  little  fair  head, 
"sunning  over  with  curls,"  as  Claude  never 
tired  of  saying,  was  made  by  nature  with  a  self- 
evident  view  to  strawberry-leaves  and  twinkling 
tiaras.  And  Lady  Caroline  meant  it  to  wear 
them  yet. 

She  had  done  her  best  to  encourage  Claude  in 
his  inclination  to  run  up  to  town  at  once.  The 
situation  at  the  seaside  had  become  charged 
with  danger.  Not  only  did  it  appear  to  Lady 
Caroline  that  the  poet  was  at  last  satisfied  with 
the  state  of  his  own  affections,  but  she  had 
reason  to  fear  that  Claude  Lafont  would  have  a 
better  chance  with  Olivia  than  would  the  Duke 
of  St.  Osmund's.  The  child  was  peculiar.  She 
had  read  too  much,  and  there  was  a  suspiciously 
sentimental  strain  in  her.  Her  acute  mother 
did  not  imagine  her  "  vulgarly  in  love  "  (as  she 
called  it)  with  the  sesthetic  Claude  ;  but  she  had 
heard  him  tell  the  girl  that  "  pity  from  her  "  was 
"  more  dear  than  that  from  another  " ;  and  it 
was  precisely  this  pity  which  Lady  Caroline 
now  dreaded  as  fervently  as  she  would  have 
welcomed  it  the  day  before.  Her  stupid  hus- 
band had  outwitted  her  in  the  matter  of  Claude's 
departure.  Lady  Caroline  was  hardly  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs  before  she  had  made  up  the  masterly 


14  MY  LORD  DUKE 

mind  which  she  considered  at  least  a  match  for 
her  stupid  husband's.  He  would  not  allow 
her  to  get  rid  of  Claude  ?  Very  well ;  nothing 
simpler.     She  would  get  rid  of  Olivia  instead. 

The  means  suggested  itself  almost  as  quickly 
as  the  end. 

Lady  Caroline  took  a  little  walk  to  the  post- 
office,  and  said  she  had  been  on  the  pier.  In  a 
couple  of  hours  a  telegram  arrived  from  Mrs. 
Freke,  begging  Olivia  to  go  to  her  at  once.  Lady 
Caroline  was  apparently  overwhelmed  with  sur- 
prise. But  she  despatched  her  ewe  lamb  by  the 
next  train. 

"  Olivia,  I  won  both  rounds  !  "  called  out  the 
Home  Secretary,  when  he  strutted  in  towards 
evening,  pink  and  beaming.  Claude  also  looked 
the  better  and  the  brighter  for  his  day ;  but 
Lady  Caroline  took  the  brightness  out  of  him 
in  an  instant ;  and  the  Home  Secretary  beamed 
no  more  that  night. 

"It  is  no  use  your  calling  Olivia,"  said  her 
Ladyship  calmly;  "by  this  time  she  must  be  a 
hundred  miles  away.  You  needn't  look  so 
startled,  George.  You  know  the  state  to  which 
poor  Francis  reduces  himself  by  the  end  of 
Lent,  and  you  know  that  dear  Marj'^'s  baby  is 
not  thriving  as  it  ought.  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  he  makes  it  fast,  too !     At  all  events  Mary 


THE   HEAD   OF    THE   FAMILY  15 

telegraphed  for  Olivia  this  morning,  and  I  let 
her  go.  Now  it's  no  use  being  angry  with  any 
of  us  I  With  a  young  baby  and  a  half-starved 
husband  it  was  a  very  natural  request.  There's 
the  telegram  on  the  mantelpiece  for  you  to  see 
for  yourself  what  she  says." 


CHAPTER   II 


"HAPPY  JACK 


»j 


A  DILETTANTE  in  letters,  a  laggard  in  love, 
and  a  pedant  in  much  of  his  speech,  Claude 
Lafont  was  nevertheless  possessed  of  certain 
graces  of  the  heart  and  head  which  entitled 
him  at  all  events  to  the  kindly  consideration  of 
his  friends.  He  had  enthusiasm  and  some 
soul ;  he  had  an  open  hand  and  an  essentially 
simple  mind.  These  were  the  merits  of  the 
man.  They  were  less  evident  than  his  foibles, 
which,  indeed,  continually  obscured  them.  He 
would  have  been  the  better  for  one  really  bad 
fault:  but  nature  had  not  salted  him  with  a 
single  vice. 

Unpopular  at  Eton,  he  had  found  his  feet  per- 
haps a  little  too  firmly  at  Oxford.  There  his 
hair  had  grown  long  and  his  views  outrageous. 
Had  the  old  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  been  in 
his  right  mind  at  the  time,  he  would  certainly 
have  quitted  it  at  the  report  of  some  of  his 
grandson's    contributions  to  the  university  de- 

16 


"HAPPY  JACK"  17 

bates.  Claude,  however,  liad  the  courage  of  his 
most  extravagant  opinions,  and  even  at  Oxford 
he  was  a  man  whom  it  was  possible  to  respect. 
The  era  of  Toynbee  Hall  and  a  gentlemanly, 
kid-gloved  Socialism  came  a  little  later;  there 
were  other  and  intermediate  phases,  into  which 
it  is  unnecessary  to  enter.  Claude  came  through 
them  all  with  two  things,  at  least,  as  good  as 
new:  -his  ready  enthusiasm  and  his  excellent 
heart. 

Whether  he  really  did  view  the  new  twist  in 
his  life  with  the  satisfaction  which  he  professed 
is  an  open  and  immaterial  question ;  all  that  is 
certain  or  important  is  the  fact  that  he  did  not 
permit  himself  to  repine.  He  was  never  in 
better  spirits  than  in  the  six  weeks'  interval 
between  the  receipt  of  Mr.  Cripps's  cable  and 
that  gentleman's  arrival  with  the  new  Duke. 
Claude  divided  the  time  between  the  proofs 
of  his  new  volume  of  poems  and  conscien- 
tious preparations  for  the  proper  reception  of  his 
noble  cousin.  He  had  the  mansion  in  Belgrave 
Square,  which  had  fallen  of  late  years  into  dis- 
use, elaborately  done  up,  repapered,  and  fitted 
throughout  with  new  hangings  and  the  electric 
light.  He  felt  it  his  duty  to  hand  over  the 
house  in  a  cleanly  and  habitable  state ;  and  he 
was  accustomed  to  work  his  duty  rather  hard. 


18  MY  LORD  DUKE 

He  ran  down  to  Maske  Towers,  the  principal 
family  seat,  repeatedly,  and  had  certain  renova- 
tions carried  out  as  far  as  possible  under  his 
own  eye.  In  every  direction  he  did  more  than 
he  need  have  done.  And  so  the  time  passed 
very  busily,  quite  happily,  and  with  an  interest 
that  was  kept  green  to  the  last  by  the  utter 
absence  of  any  shred  of  information  concerning 
the  ninth  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's. 

Claude  had  even  no  idea  as  to  whether  he 
was  a  married  man.  So  he  legislated  for  a  wife 
and  family.  And  his  worst  visions  were  of  a 
hulking,  genial,  sheep-farming  Duke,  with  a 
tribe  of  very  terrible  little  Lords  and  Ladies, 
duly  frightened  of  their  gigantic  father,  but 
paying  not  the  slightest  attention  to  the  ansemic 
Duchess  who  all  day  scolded  them  through  her 
freckled  nose. 

Mr.  Cripps's  letters  continued  to  arrive  by 
each  week's  mail;  but  they  were  still  written 
with  a  shake  of  the  head  and  a  growing  depre- 
cation of  the  wild-goose  chase  in  which  the 
lawyer  now  believed  himself  to  be  unworthily 
engaged.  Towards  the  end  of  May,  however, 
the  letters  stopped.  The  last  one  was  written 
on  the  eve  of  an  expedition  up  the  country,  on 
a  mere  off-chance,  to  find  out  more  about  one 
John  Dillamore,  whom  Mr.  Crijjps  had  heard  of 


''HAPPY  JACK"  19 

as  a  resident  of  the  Riveiiiia.  Claude  Lafont 
knew  well  what  had  come  of  that  off-chance. 
It  had  turned  the  tide  of  his  life.  But  no  letter 
came  from  the  Riverina ;  the  next  communica- 
tion was  a  telegram  from  Brindisi,  saying  they 
had  left  the  ship  and  were  travelling  overland  ; 
and  the  next  after  that,  another  telegram  stat- 
ing the  hour  at  which  they  hoped  to  land  at 
Dover. 

Claude  Lafont  had  just  time  enough  to  put 
on  his  hat,  to  stop  the  hansom  for  an  instant  at 
the  house  in  Belgrave  Square,  and  to  catch  the 
12.0  from  Victoria. 

It  was  a  lovely  day  in  early  June.  There 
was  neither  a  cloud  in  the  sky  nor  the  white  crest 
of  a  wave  out  at  sea ;  the  one  was  as  serenely 
blue  as  the  other ;  and  the  Galau-Bouvre  rode 
in  with  a  high-bred  calm  and  dignity  all  in  key 
with  the  occasion.  Claude  boarded  her  before 
he  had  any  right,  with  a  sudden  dereliction  of 
his  characteristic  caution.  And  there  was  old 
Cripps,  sunburnt  and  grim,  with  a  soft  felt  hat 
on  his  head,  and  a  strange  spasmodic  twitch- 
ing at  the  corners  of  the  mouth. 

"  Here  you  are ! "  cried  Claude,  gripping 
hands.     "  Well,  where  is  he  ?  " 

The  lawyer's  lips  went  in  and  out,  and  a 
rough-looking  bystander  chuckled  audibly. 


20  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  One  thing  quickly,"  whispered  Claude :  "  is 
he  a  married  man  ?  " 

«  No,  he  isn't." 

The  bystander  laughed  outright.  Claude 
favoured  hira  with  a  haughty  glance. 

"  His  servant,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Cripps  hoarsely.  "  I  must  intro- 
duce you.  The  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  —  your 
kinsman,  Mr.  Claude  Lafont." 

Claude  felt  the  painful  pressure  of  a  horny 
fist,  and  gasped. 

"  Proud  to  meet  you,  mister,"  said  the  Duke. 

"So  delighted  to  meet  and  welcome  yow, 
Duke,"  said  Claude  faintly. 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  a  bit  of  a  larrikin,"  continued 
the  Duke.  "  You'd  have  done  as  well  to  leave 
me  where  I  was  —  but  now  I'm  here  you've  got 
to  call  me  Jack." 

"You  knew,  of  course,  what  would  happen 
sooner  or  later?"  said  Claude,  with  a  sickly 
smile. 

"Not  me.  My  colonial  oath,  I  did  not! 
Never  dreamt  of  it  till  I  seen  Am"  —  with  a 
jerk  of  his  wideawake  towards  Mr.  Cripps.  It 
was  a  very  different  felt  hat  from  that  gentle- 
man's ;  the  crown  rose  like  a  sugar-loaf,  nine 
inches  from  the  head ;  the  brim  was  nearly  as 
many  inches  wide ;  and  where  the  felt  touched 


"HAPPY  JACK"  21 

the  temples  it  was  stained  through  and  through 
with  ancient  perspiration. 

"  And  I  can't  sight  it  now !  "  added  his  Grace. 

"  Nevertheless  it's  true,"  said  Mr.  Cripps. 

Claude  was  taking  in  the  matted  beard,  the 
peeled  nose,  and  the  round  shoulders  of  the 
ninth  Duke.     He  was  a  bushman  from  top  to  toe. 

"What  luggage  have  you?  "  exclaimed  Claude, 
with  a  sudden  effort.     "  We  must  get  it  ashore." 

"  This  is  all,"  said  the  Duke,  with  a  grin. 

It  lay  on  the  deck  at  their  feet :  a  long  cylin- 
der whose  outer  case  was  an  old  blue  blanket, 
very  neatly  rolled  and  strapped ;  an  Australian 
saddle,  with  enormous  knee-pads,  black  with 
age  ;  and  an  extraordinary  cage  like  a  rabbit- 
hutch.  The  cage  was  full  of  cats.  The  Duke 
insisted  on  carrying  it  ashore  himself. 

"  This  is  the  man  ?  "  whispered  Claude,  jeal- 
ously, to  Mr.  Cripps. 

"The  man  himself;  there's  an  eagle  on  his 
chest  as  large  as  life." 

"  But  it  might  be  a  coincidence " 

"It  might  be,  but  it  isn't,"  replied  Cripps 
shortly.  "  He's  the  Duke  all  right ;  the  papers 
I  shall  show  you  are  quite  conclusive.  I  own 
he  doesn't  look  the  part.  He's  not  tractable. 
He  would  come  as  he  is.  I  heaved  one  old  hat 
overboard;   but  he  had  a  worse   in   his   swag. 


22  MY  LORD  DUKE 

However,  no  one  on  board  knew  who  he  was. 
I  took  care  of  that." 

"  God  bless  you,  Cripps ! "  said  Claude  Lafont. 

He  had  reserved  a  first-class  carriage.  The 
Duke  took  up  half  of  it  with  his  cat-cage,  which 
he  stoutly  declined  to  trust  out  of  his  sight. 
There  were  still  a  few  minutes  before  the  train 
would  start.  Claude  and  Cripps  exchanged  sym- 
pathetic glances. 

"I  think  we  ought  to  drink  the  Duke's 
health,"  said  Claude,  who  for  once  felt  the  need 
of  a  stimulant  himself. 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Mr.  Cripps. 

"Then  make  'em  lock  the  door,"  stipulated 
his  Grace.  "I  wouldn't  risk  my  cats  being 
shook,  not  for  drinks  as  long  as  your  leg ! " 

A  grinning  guard  came  forward  with  his  key. 
The  Duke  "mistered"  him,  and  mentioned 
where  his  cats  came  from  as  he  got  out. 

"  Very  kind  of  you  to  shout  for  me,"  he  con- 
tinued as  they  filed  into  the  refreshment  room ; 
"but  why  the  blazes  don't  you  call  me  Jack? 
Happy  Jack's  my  name,  that's  what  they  used 
to  call  me  up  the  bush.  I'm  not  going  to 
stop  being  Jack,  or  happy  either,  'cause  I'm  a 
Dook;  if  I  did  I'd  jolly  soon  sling  it.  Now, 
my  dear,  what  are  you  givin'  us?  Why  don't 
you  let  me  help  myself,  like  they  do   up  the 


"HAPPY  JACK"  23 

bush?  English  fashion,  is  it?  And  you  call 
that  drop  a  nobbier,  do  you,  iu  the  old  country  ? 
Well,  well,  here's  fun !  " 

The  Duke's  custodians  were  not  sorry  to  get 
him  back  beside  his  cats.  They  were  really  glad 
when  the  train  started.  The  Duke  was  in  high 
spirits.     The  whisky  had  loosened  his  tongue. 

"  Like  cats,  old  man  ?  "  he  inquired  of  Claude. 
"  Then  I  hope  you'll  make  friends  with  mine. 
They  were  my  only  mates,  year  in,  year  out,  up 
at  the  hut.  I  wasn't  going  to  leave  'em  there 
when  they'd  stood  by  me  so  long ;  not  likely ; 
so  here  they  are.  See  that  black  'un  in  the 
corner?  I  call  her  Black  Maria,  and  that's  her 
kitten.  She  went  and  had  a  large  family  at  sea, 
but  this  poor  little  beggar's  the  only  one  what 
lived  to  tell  the  tale.  That  great  big  Tom,  he's 
the  father.  I  don't  think  much  of  Tom,  but  it 
would  have  been  a  shame  to  leave  him  behind. 
No,  sir,  my  favourite's  the  little  tortoise-shell 
with  the  game  leg.  He  got  cotched  in  a  rabbit 
trap  last  shearing-time  ;  he's  the  most  adventur- 
ous little  cat  that  ever  was,  so  I  call  him  Liv- 
ingstone. I've  known  him  explore  five  miles 
from  the  hut,  when  there  wasn't  a  drop  of 
water  or  a  blade  of  feed  in  the  paddicks,  and 
yet  come  back  as  fat  as  butter.  A  little  caution, 
I  tell  you !     Out  you  come,  Livingstone  !  " 


24  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Claude  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  more  ill- 
favoured  animal.  To  call  it  tortoise-shell  was 
to  misuse  the  word.  It  was  simply  yellow;  it 
ran  on  three  legs ;  and  its  nose  had  been  recently 
scarified  by  an  enemy's  claws. 

"  No,  I'm  full  up  of  Tom,"  pursued  the  Duke, 
fondling  his  pet.  "  Look  what  he  done  on  board 
to  Livingstone's  nose  !  I  nearly  slung  him  over 
the  side.  Poor  little  puss,  then,  poor  little  puss  ! 
You  may  well  purr,  old  toucher ;  there's  a  live 
Lord  scratching  your  head." 

"Meaning  me?"  said  Claude  genially;  there 
was  a  kindness  in  the  rugged  face,  as  it  bent  over 
the  little  yellow  horror,  that  appealed  to  the  poet. 

"  Meaning  you,  of  course." 

"But  I'm  not  one." 

"  You're  not?  What  a  darned  shame  !  Why, 
you  ought  to  be  a  Dook.  You'd  make  a  better 
one  than  me  !  " 

The  family  solicitor  was  half-hidden  behind 
that  morning's  Times;  as  Jack  spoke,  he  hid 
himself  entirely.  Claude,  for  his  part,  saw  noth- 
ing to  laugh  at.  The  Duke's  face  was  earnest. 
The  Duke's  eyes  were  dark  and  kind.  Like 
Claude  himself,  he  had  the  long  Lafont  nose, 
though  sun  and  wind  had  peeled  it  red;  and  a 
pair  of  shaggy  brown  eyebrows  gave  strength 
at  all  events  to  the   hairy   face.     Claude  was 


''HAPPY  JACK"  25 

thinking  that  half-an-hour  at  Truefitt's,  a  pot 
of  vaseline,  and  the  best  attentions  of  his  own 
tailors  in  Maddox  Street  would  make  a  new 
man  of  Happy  Jack.  Not  that  his  suit  was  on 
a  par  with  his  abominable  wideawake.  He  could 
not  have  worn  these  clothes  in  the  bush.  They 
were  obviously  his  best ;  and,  as  obviously, 
ready-made. 

Happy  Jack  was  meantime  apostrophising  his 
pet. 

"  Ah !  but  you  was  with  me  when  that  there 
gentleman  found  me,  wasn't  you,  Livingstone? 
You  should  tell  the  otlier  gentleman  about  that. 
We  never  thought  we  was  a  Dook,  did  we  ? 
We  thought  ourselves  a  blooming  ordinary  com- 
mon man.  My  colonial  oath,  and  so  we  are ! 
But  you  recollect  that  last  bu'st  of  ours,  Living- 
stone? I  mean  the  time  we  went  to  knock 
down  the  thirty-one  pound  cheque  what  never 
got  knocked  down  properly  at  all.  We  had  a 
rare  thirst  on  us " 

Mr.  Cripps  in  his  corner  smacked  down  the 
Times  on  his  knees. 

"  Look  there  !  "  he  cried.  "  Did  ever  you 
see  such  grass  as  that.  Jack?  You've  nothing 
like  it  in  New  South  Wales.  I  declare  it  does 
my  old  heart  good  to  see  an  honest  green  field 


again 


!  " 


26  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Jack  looked  out  for  an  instant  only. 

"  Ten  sheep  to  the  acre,"  said  he.  "  Won- 
derful, isn't  it,  Livingstone  ?  And  you  an'  me 
used  to  ten  acres  to  the  sheep !  But  we  were 
talking  about  that  last  little  spree;  you  want 
your  Uncle  Claude  to  hear  all  about  it,  I  see 
you  do ;  you're  not  the  cat  to  make  yourself 
out  better  than  what  you  are ;  not  you,  Living- 
stone !     Well,  as  I  was  saying " 

"  Those  red-tiled  roofs  are  simply  charming!  " 
exclaimed  the  solicitor. 

"  A  perfect  poem,"  said  Claude. 

"  And  that  May-tree  in  full  bloom  ! " 

"  A  living  lyric,"  said  Claude. 

It  was  really  apple-blossom. 

"  And  you,"  cried  the  Duke  to  his  cat,  "you're 
a  comic  song,  that's  what  i/ou  are  !  Tell  'em  you 
won't  be  talked  down,  Livingstone.  Tell  this 
gentleman  he's  got  to  hear  the  worst.  Tell  him 
that  when  the  other  gentleman  found  us"  —  the 
solicitor  raised  his  Times  with  a  shrug  —  "  one 
of  us  was  drunk,  drunk,  drunk ;  and  the  other 
was  watching  over  him  —  and  the  other  was  my 
little  cat !  " 

"  You're  joking,  of  course  ? "  said  Claude, 
with  a  flush. 

"Not  me,  mister.  That's  a  fact.  You  see, 
it  was  like  this " 


"HAPPY  JACK"  27 

"  Thanks,"  said  Claude  hastily ;  "  but  I'd  far 
rather  not  know." 

"  Why  not,  old  toucher  ?  " 

"It  would  hurt  me,"  said  Claude,  with  a 
shudder. 

"  Hurt  3^ou  !  Hear  that,  Livingstone  ?  It 
would  hurt  him  to  hear  how  we  knocked  down 
our  last  little  cheque !  That's  the  best  one 
J've  heard  since  I  left  the  ship ! " 

"  Nevertheless  it's  the  case." 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  j^ou  were  never 
like  that  yourself  ?  " 

"  Never  in  my  life." 

"Well,  shoot  me  dead!"  whispered  the  Duke 
in  his  amazement. 

"  It  ought  not  to  surprise  you,"  said  Claude, 
in  a  tone  that  set  the  Times  shaking  in  the  far 
corner  of  the  carriage. 

"It  does,  though.  I  can't  help  it.  You're 
the  first  I've  ever  met  that  could  say  as  much." 

"Pray  let  us  drop  the  subject.  I  prefer  to 
hear  no  more.  You  pain  me  more  than  I  can 
say ! " 

Claude's  flush  had  deepened ;  his  supersensi- 
tive soul  was  indeed  scandalised,  and  so  visibly 
that  an  answering  flush  showed  upon  the  Duke's 
mahogany  features,  like  an  extra  coat  of  polish. 

"  I  pain  you ! "  he  echoed,  dropping  his  cat. 


28  ^lY  LORD  DUKE 

"I'm  very  sorry  then.  I  am  so !  I  had  no  in- 
tention of  doing  any  such  thing.  All  I  wanted 
was  to  fly  my  true  flag  at  once,  like,  and  have 
done  with  it.  And  I've  pained  you ;  and  you 
bet  I'll  go  on  paining  you  all  the  time!  How 
can  I  help  it?  I'm  not  what  us  back-blockers 
call  a  parlour-man,  though  I  may  be  a  Dook ; 
but  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  my  fault. 
You  should  have  let  me  be  in  the  bush.  I  was 
all  right  there  —  all  right  with  my  hut  and  my 
cats.  I'd  never  known  anything  better.  I  never 
knew  who  I  was.  What  did  it  matter  if  I  knocked 
down  my  cheque  when  I  got  full  up  of  the  cats 
and  the  hut  ?  Nobody  thinks  anything  of  that 
up  the  bush.  The  boss  used  always  to  take 
me  on  again ;  some  day  I'll  tell  you  about  my 
old  boss  ;  he  was  the  best  friend  ever  I  had.  A 
real  gentleman,  who  thought  no  worse  of  you 
so  long's  it  only  happened  now  and  then.  But 
see  here !  It  shall  never  happen  again.  It 
didn't  matter  in  the  boundary  rider,  but  p'r'aps 
it  might  in  the  Dook.  Anyhow  I'm  strict  T  T 
from  this  moment ;  that  whisky  at  Dover  shall 
be  my  last.  And  I'm  darned  sorry  I  pained 
you,  and — and  dash  it,  here's  my  fist  on  it  for 
good  and  all !  " 

It  is  difficult  to  say  which  hand  wrung  the 
harder.     Claude  was  not  pleased  with  himself : 


''HAPPY  JACK"  29 

the  conscious  lack  of  some  quality,  which  the 
other  possessed,  was  afflicting  him  with  a  novel 
and  entirely  unexpected  sense  of  inferiority. 
He  was  as  yet  unsure  what  the  missing  quality 
was ;  he  hardly  suspected  it  of  being  a  virtue ; 
but  it  was  new  to  Claude  to  have  these  feelings 
at  all. 

He  said  not  another  word  upon  the  embarrass- 
ing subject,  but  fell  presently  into  a  train  of 
thought  that  kept  him  silent  until  the}'  steamed 
into  Victoria.  There  the  conquering  Cripps  was 
met  by  his  wife  and  daughters;  but  Claude 
managed  to  get  a  few  more  words  with  him  as 
they  were  waiting  to  have  the  baggage  passed. 

"  I  like  him,"  said  Claude. 

"So  do  I,"  was  the  reply,  "and  I  know  him 
well." 

"  I  like  his  honesty." 

"  He  is  honesty  itself.  I  did  my  best  just  now 
to  keep  him  from  giving  himself  away  —  but  that 
was  his  deliberate  game.  Mark  you,  what  he 
insisted  on  telling  you  was  quite  true ;  but  on  the 
whole  he  has  behaved  excellently  ever  since." 

"  Well,  as  long  as  he  doesn't  confess  his  sins 
to  everybody  he  meets  !  " 

"  No  fear  of  that ;  he  looks  on  you  as  still  the 
head  of  the  family,  with  a  sort  of  ex  officio  right 
to  know  the  worst.    His  own  position  he  doesn't 


30  MY  LORD  DUKE 

realise  a  bit.  Yet  some  day  I  expect  to  see  him 
at  least  as  fit  to  occupy  it  as  one  or  two  others  ; 
and  you  are  the  man  to  make  him  so.  You  will 
only  require  two  things." 

The    great   doors   opened   inwards,    and    the 
travellers  surged  in  to  claim  their  luggage,  with 
Mr.  Cripps  at  their  head.      Claude  caught  him 
by  the  elbow  as  he  was  pointing  out  his  trunks. 
"  Those  two  things  ?  "  said  he. 
"  Yes,  those  two,  with  my  initials  on  each." 
"No,  but  the  two  things  that  I  shall  need?" 
"  Oh,  those  !     Plenty  of  patience,  and  plenty 
of  time." 


CHAPTER  III 

A   CHANCE  LOST 

It  was  the  pink  of  the  evening  when  the 
cousins  drove  off  in  a  four-wheeler  with  the 
cats  on  top.  Claude  had  been  in  many  minds 
about  their  destination,  until  the  Duke  had 
asked  him  to  recommend  an  hotel.  At  that  he 
had  hesitated  a  little,  and  finally  pitched  upon 
the  First  Avenue.  A  variety  of  feelings  guided 
his  choice,  chief  among  them  being  a  vague  im- 
pression that  his  wild  kinsman  would  provoke 
less  attention  in  Holborn  than  in  Northumber- 
land Avenue.  To  Holborn,  at  all  events,  they 
were  now  on  their  way. 

Claude  sat  far  back  in  the  cab;  he  felt  thank- 
ful it  was  not  a  hansom.  In  the  Mall  they  met 
a  string  of  them,  taking  cloaked  women  and 
white-breasted  men  out  to  dinner.  Claude  saw 
one  or  two  faces  he  knew,  but  was  himself  un- 
seen. He  saw  them  stare  and  smile  at  the 
tanned  and  bearded  visage  beneath  that  vil- 
lainous wideawake,  which  was  thrust  from  one 

31 


32  MY  LORD   DUKE 

window  to  the  other  with  the  eager  and  unre- 
strained excitement  of  a  child.  He  felt  ashamed 
of  poor  Jack.  He  was  sincerely  ashamed  of  this 
very  feeling. 

"  What  streets  !  "  whispered  the  Duke  in  an 
awestruck  whisper.  "  We've  nothing  like  'em 
in  Melbourne.  They'd  knock  spots  off  Syd- 
ney.    I've  been  in  both." 

Claude  had  a  sudden  thought.  "  For  you," 
lie  said,  "these  streets  should  have  a  special 
interest." 

"How's  that?" 

"  Well,  many  of  them  belong  to  you." 

"WHAT?'' 

"  You  are  the  ground  landlord  of  some  of  the 
streets  and  squares  v/e  have  already  passed." 

The  brown  beard  had  fallen  in  dismay ;  now, 
however,  a  mouthful  of  good  teeth  showed  them- 
selves in  a  frankly  incredulous  grin. 

"  What  are  j^ou  givin'  us  ? "  laughed  Jack. 
"  I  see,  you  think  you've  got  a  loan  of  a  new 
chum  !     Well,  so  you  have.     Go  ahead  !  " 

"  Not  if  you  don't  choose  to  believe  me,"  re- 
plied Claude  stiffly.  "  I  meant  what  I  said  ;  I 
usually  do.  The  property  has  been  in  our  fam- 
ily for  hundreds  of  years." 

"  And  now  it's  mine  ?  " 

"  And  now  it's  yours." 


A    CHANCE  LOST  33 

The  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  took  off  his  mon- 
strous wideawake,  and  passed  the  back  of  his 
hairy  hand  across  his  forehead.  The  gesture 
was  eloquent  of  a  mind  appalled. 

"Have  I  no  homestead  on  my  own  run?"  he 
inquired  at  length. 

"  You  have  several,"  said  Claude,  smiling ; 
but  he  also  hesitated. 

"Several  in  Loudon?"  cried  the  Duke,  aghast 
again. 

"  No  —  only  one  in  town." 

"That's  better!  I  say,  though,  why  aren't 
we  going  there  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  fact  is,  they're  not  quite  ready  for 
you  ;  I  mean  the  servants.  They  —  we  were  all 
rather  rushed,  you  know,  and  they  don't  expect 
you  to-night.     Do  you  mind?" 

Claude  had  stated  but  one  fact  of  many. 
That  morning,  when  he  stopped  his  hansom  at 
the  house,  he  had  told  the  servants  not  to 
expect  his  Grace  until  he  telegraphed.  After 
seeing  the  Duke,  he  had  resolved  not  to  tele- 
graph at  all;  and  certainly  not  to  install  him 
in  his  own  house,  as  he  was,  without  consulting 
other  members  of  the  family.  He  still  consid- 
ered that  decision  justified.  Nevertheless,  the 
Duke's  reply  came  as  a  great  relief. 

"No,  I'm  just  as  glad,"  said  Jack  content- 


34  MY  LORD  DUKE 

edly.  His  contentment  was  only  comparative, 
however.  The  first  dim  conception  of  his  great- 
ness had  strangely  dashed  him;  he  was  no 
longer  the  man  that  he  had  been  in  the  train. 

An  athlete  in  a  frayed  frock-coat,  and  no 
shirt,  was  sprinting  behind  the  cab  with  the 
customary  intent ;  it  was  a  glimpse  of  him,  as 
they  turned  a  corner,  that  slew  the  oppressed 
Duke,  and  brought  Happy  Jack  back    to  life. 

"  Stop  the  cab !  "  he  roared ;  "  there's  a  man 
on  the  track  of  my  cats ! " 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  fellow ;  it's  only  a  per- 
son who'll  want  sixpence  for  not  helping  with 
the  luggage." 

"Are  you  sure?"  asked  Jack  suspiciously. 
"  How  do  you  know  he  isn't  a  professional  cat- 
stealer?  I  must  ask  the  cabman  if  they  are  all 
right !  "     He  did  so,  and  was  reassured. 

"We're  almost  at  the  hotel  now,"  said  Claude, 
with  misgivings  ;  he  was  bitterly  anticipating 
the  sensation  to  be  caused  there  by  the  arrival 
of  such  a  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's,  and  wonder- 
ing whether  it  would  be  of  any  use  suggesting 
a  further  period  of  incognito. 

"  Nearly  there,  are  we?  Then  see  here,"  said 
Jack,  "  I've  got  something  to  insist  on.  I  mean 
to  have  my  way  about  one  matter." 

Claude  groaned  inwardly. 


A    CHANCE  LOST  35 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  I'll  tell  you  straight.  I'm  not  going  to  do 
the  Dook  in  this  hotel.  I'm  plain  Jack  Dilla- 
more,  or  I  don't  go  in." 

The  delight  of  this  deliverance  nearly  over- 
came the  poet. 

"  I  think  you're  wise,"  was  all  he  trusted  him- 
self to  say.  "  I  should  be  inclined  to  take  the 
same  course  were  I  in  your  place.  You  will 
escape  a  great  deal  of  the  sort  of  adulation 
which  turneth  the  soul  sick.  And  for  one 
night,  at  all  events,  you  will  be  able,  as  an 
alien  outsider,  to  form  an  unprejudiced  opinion 
of  our  unlovely  metropolis." 

In  the  bright  light  of  his  ineffable  relief, 
Claude's  little  mannerisms  stood  out  once  more, 
like  shadows  when  the  sun  shines  fitfully ;  but 
it  was  a  transient  gleam.  The  arrival  at  the 
hotel  was  still  embarrassing  enough.  The  wide- 
awake attracted  attention.  The  attention  was 
neither  of  a  flattering  character  in  itself  nor 
otherwise  desirable  from  any  point  of  view.  It 
made  Claude  miserable.  There  was  also  trouble 
about  the  cats. 

Jack  insisted  on  having  them  with  him  in 
his  room.  The  management  demurred.  Jack 
threatened  to  go  elsewhere.  The  management 
raised  no  objection ;  but  Claude  did.    He  handed 


36  MY  LORD  DUKE 

them  his  card,  and  this  settled  the  matter. 
There  is  but  one  race  of  Lafonts  in  Eng- 
land. So  Jack  had  his  way.  A  room  was 
taken ;  the  cats  were  put  into  it ;  milk  was  set 
before  them;  and  Jack  left  the  hotel  in  Claude's 
company,  with  the  key  of  that  room  in  his 
pocket. 

Claude  would  have  taken  him  to  his  club,  but 
for  both  their  sakes  he  did  not  dare.  Yet  he  was 
as  anxious  as  ever  to  show  every  hospitality 
to  the  Duke.  Accordingly  he  had  refused  Jack's 
invitation  to  dine  with  him  in  the  hotel,  and 
was  taking  him  across  to  the  Holborn  instead. 

The  dinner  went  wonderfully.  Jack  was 
delighted  with  the  music,  with  the  electric 
lights,  with  the  marble  pillars,  Avith  the  gilded 
balconies,  with  the  dinner  itself,  in  fact  with 
everything.  There  was  but  one  item  which 
did  not  appeal  to  him:  he  stoutly  refused  to 
drink  a  drop  of  wine. 

"  A  promise  is  a  promise,"  said  he.  "  I  gave 
you  my  colonial  in  the  train,  and  I  mean  to 
keep  it;  for  a  bit,  at  all  events." 

Claude  protested  and  tempted  him  in  vain. 
Jack  called  for  a  lemon-squash,  and  turned  his 
wine-glasses  upside  down.  He  revenged  him- 
self, however,  upon  the  viands. 

"Which  entrSe,  please,  sir?"  said  the  waiter. 


A    CHANCE  LOST  37 

"  Both ! "  cried  Jack.  "  You  may  go  on, 
mister,  till  I  tell  you  to  stop !  " 

After  dinner  the  cousins  went  aloft,  and 
Claude  took  out  his  cigarette  case  and  ordered 
cio-ars  for  the  Duke.  He  could  not  smoke 
them  himself,  but  neither,  it  appeared,  could 
Jack.  He  produced  a  cutty-pipe,  black  and 
foul  with  age,  and  a  cake  of  tobacco  like  a 
piece  -of  shoe-leather,  which  he  began  paring 
with  his  knife.  Claude  had  soon  to  sit  farther 
away  from  him. 

Jack  did  not  fancy  a  theatre ;  he  was  strongly 
in  favour  of  a  quiet  evening  and  a  long  talk ; 
and  it  was  he  who  proposed  that  they  should 
return,  for  this  purpose,  to  the  First  Avenue. 
No  sooner  were  they  comfortably  settled  in  the 
hotel  smoking-room,  however,  than  the  Duke  an- 
nounced that  he  must  run  upstairs  and  see  to 
his  cats.    And  he  came  down  no  more  that  night. 

Claude  waited  patiently  for  twenty  minutes. 
Then  he  began  a  note  to  Lady  Caroline  Sell- 
wood.  Then  he  remembered  that  he  could,  if 
he  liked,  see  Lady  Caroline  that  night.  It  was 
merely  a  question  of  driving  over  to  his  rooms 
in  St.  James's  and  putting  himself  into  evening 
dress.  On  the  whole,  this  seemed  worth  doing. 
Claude  therefore  followed  Jack  upstairs  after 
an  interval  of  half-an-hour. 


38  MY  LORD  DUKE 

The  Duke's  rooms  were  ou  the  first  floor. 
Claude  surprised  a  group  of  first-floor  servants 
laughing  and  whispering  in  the  corridor.  The 
little  that  he  heard  as  he  passed  made  him  hot 
all  over.     The  exact  words  were  : 

"  Never  see  such  a  man  in  my  life."  "  Nor 
me,  my  dear !  "  "  And  yet  they  call  this  'ere 
a  decent  'otel !  " 

Claude  had  no  doubt  in  his  own  mind  as  to 
whom  they  were  talking  about.  Already  the 
Duke  inspired  him  with  a  sort  of  second-self- 
consciousness.  Prepared  for  anything,  he 
hastened  to  the  room  and  nervously  knocked 
at  the  door. 

"  Come  in !  "  cried  Jack's  voice. 

The  door  was  unlocked ;  as  Claude  opened  it 
the  heat  of  the  room  fairly  staggered  him.  It 
was  a  sufficiently  warm  summer  night,  yet  an 
enormous  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate. 

"  My  dear  fellow !  "  panted  Claude. 

Jack  was  in  his  trousers  and  shirt;  the 
sleeves  were  rolled  up  over  his  brawny  arms ; 
the  open  front  revealed  an  estuary  of  hairy 
chest ;  and  it  was  plain  at  a  glance  that  the 
Duke  was  perspiring  at  every  pore. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  said.     "  It's  for  the  cats." 

"  The  cats  !  "  said  Claude.  They  were  lying 
round  about  the  fire. 


A    CHANCE  LOST  39 

"  Yes,  poor  devils !  They  had  a  fire  every- 
day in  the  hut,  summer  and  winter.  They 
never  had  a  single  one  at  sea.  They  like  to 
sleep  by  it  —  they  always  did  —  all  but  Living- 
stone. He  sleeps  with  me  when  he  isn't  on 
the  loose." 

"  But  you'll  never  be  able  to  sleep  in  an 
atmosphere  like  this  !  " 

Jack  was  cutting  up  a  pipeful  of  his  black 
tobacco. 

"  Well,  it  is  warm,"  he  admitted.  "  And 
now  you  mention  it,  I  may  find  it  a  job  to 
get  asleep ;  but  the  cats  like  it,  anyhow ! " 
And  he  swore  at  them  affectionately  as  he 
lit  his  pipe. 

"  Did  you  forget  you'd  left  me  downstairs  ?  " 
asked  Claude. 

"  Clean  !  I  apologise.  I  took  this  idea  into 
my  head,  and  I  could  think  of  nothing  else." 

"May  we  have  another  window  open? 
Thank  you.  I'll  smoke  one  cigarette ;  then 
I  must  be  off." 

"Where  to?" 

"  My  chambers  —  to  dress." 

"  To  undress^  you  mean !  " 

"No,  to  dress.  I've  got  to  go  out  to  a  —  to 
a  party.  I  had  almost  forgotten  about  it.  The 
truth  is,  I  want  to  see  Lady  Caroline  Seliwood, 


40  MY  LORD  DUKE 

who,  although  not  a  near  relation,  is  about  the 
only  woman  in  London  with  our  blood  in  her 
veins.  She  will  want  to  see  you.  What's  the 
matter  ?  " 

Jack's  pipe  had  gone  out  in  his  hand ;  and 
there  he  stood,  a  pillar  of  perspiring  bewilder- 
ment. 

"A  party!"  he  murmured.  "At  this  time 
o'  night!" 

Claude  laughed. 

"  It's  not  ten  o'clock  yet ;  if  I'm  there  before 
half-past  eleven  I  shall  be  too  early." 

"I  give  you  best,"  said  Jack,  shaking  his 
head,  and  putting  another  light  to  his  pipe. 
"  It  licks  me !  Who's  the  madman  who  gives 
parties  in  the  middle  of  the  night?" 

"  My  dear  fellow,  everybody  does !  In  this 
case  it's  a  woman:  the  Countess  of  Darling- 
ford." 

"  A  live  Countess  !  " 

"  Well,  but  you're  a  live  Duke." 

"But  —  I'm  —  a  live  —  Dook  !  " 

Jack  repeated  the  words  as  though  the  fact 
had  momentarily  escaped  him.  His  pipe  went 
out  again.  This  time  he  made  no  attempt  to 
relight  it,  but  stood  staring  at  Claude  with  his 
bare  brown  arras  akimbo,  and  much  trouble  in 
his  rugged,  honest  face. 


A    CHANCE  LOST  41 

"  You  can't  get  out  of  it,"  laughed  Claude. 

"  I  can !  "  he  cried.  "  I  mean  to  get  out  of 
it!  I'm  not  the  man  for  the  billet.  I  wasn't 
dragged  up  to  it.  And  I  don't  want  it!  I 
shall  only  make  a  darned  ass  of  myself  and 
everybody  else  mixed  up  with  me.  I  may  be 
the  man  by  birth,  but  I'm  not  the  man  by 
anything  else ;  and  look  here,  I  want  to  back 
out  of  it  while  there's  time ;  and  you're  the 
very  man  to  help  me.  I  wasn't  dragged  up 
to  it  —  but  you  were.  I'm  not  the  man  for  the 
billet  —  but  you  are.  The  very  man  !  You  go 
to  parties  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  you 
think  nothing  of  'em.  They'd  be  the  death  of 
Happy  Jack !  The  whole  thing  turns  me  sick 
with  funk  —  the  life,  the  money,  the  responsi- 
bility. I  never  got  a  sight  of  it  till  to-day; 
and  now  I  don't  want  it  at  any  price.  You'd 
have  got  it  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me;  so  take 
it  now  —  for  God's  sake,  take  it  now!  If  it's 
mine,  it's  mine  to  give.  I  give  it  to  you! 
Claude,  old  toucher,  be  the  Dock  yourself. 
Let  me  and  the  cats  clear  back  to  the  bush ! " 

The  poet  had  listened  with  amazement,  with 
amusement,  with  compassion  and  concern.  He 
now  shook  his  head. 

"You  ask  an  impossibility.  Without  going 
into  the  thing,  take  my  word  for  it  that  what 


42  MY  LORD   DUKE 

you  propose  is  utterly  and  hopelessly  out  of 
the  question." 

"Couldn't  I  disappear?"  said  Jack  eagerly. 
"Couldn't  I  do  a  bolt  in  the  night?  It's  a 
big  chance  for  you;  surely  you  won't  lose  it 
by  refusing  to  help  me  clear  out?" 

Claude  again  shook  his  head. 

"In  a  week's  time  you  will  be  laughing  at 
what  you  are  saying  now.  You  are  one  of  the 
richest  men  in  England ;  everything  that  money 
can  buy  you  can  have.  You  own  some  of  the 
loveliest  seats  in  the  whole  country;  wait  till 
I  have  shown  you  Maske  Towers !  You  won't 
want  to  clear  out  then.  You  won't  ask  me 
to  be  the  Duke  again  !  " 

He  had  purposely  dwelt  upon  those  material 
allurements  which  the  bushman's  mind  would 
most  readily  grasp.  And  it  was  obvious  that 
his  arguments  had  hit  the  target,  although  not, 
perhaps,  the  bull's-eye. 

"Anyhow,"  said  Jack  doggedly,  "it's  an 
offer !  And  I  repeat  it.  What's  more,  I  mean 
it  too!" 

"Then  I  decline  it,"  returned  Claude,  to 
humour  him ;  "  and  there's  an  end  of  the  mat- 
ter. Look  here,  though.  One  thing  I  promise. 
If  you  like,  I'll  see  you  through !  " 

"  You  will  ?  " 


A    CHANCE  LOST  43 

"  I  will  with  all  my  heart." 

"And  you're  quite  sure  you  won't  take  on 
the  whole  show  yourself  ?  "  / 

"  Quite  sure,"  said  Claude,  smiling. 

"Still,  you'll  tell  me  what  to  do?  You'll 
tell  me  what  not  to  do  ?  You'll  show  me  the 
ropes?     You'll  have  hold  of  my  sleeve?" 

"  I'll  do  all  that ;  at  least,  I'll  do  all  I  can. 
It  may  not  be  much.     Still  I'll  do  it." 

Jack  held  out  a  hot,  damp  hand;  yet,  just 
then,  he  seemed  to  be  perspiring  most  freely 
under  the  eyes. 

"  You're  a  good  sort,  Claudy ! "  said  he 
hoarsely. 

"  Good-night,  old  fellow,"  said  Claude  Lafont. 


CHAPTER   IV 

NOT  DT  THE  PROGRAMME 

Lady  Caroline  Sellwood's  incomparable 
Wednesdays  were  so  salient  a  feature  of  those 
seasons  during  which  her  husband  was  in  office, 
and  her  town  house  in  St.  James's  Square,  that 
their  standard  is  still  quoted  as  the  ideal  of  its 
kind.  These  afternoons  were  never  dull.  Lady 
Caroline  cast  a  broad  net,  and  her  average 
draught  included  representatives  of  every  decent 
section  of  the  community.  But  she  also  pos- 
sessed some  secret  recipe,  the  envy  and  the  de- 
spair of  other  professional  hostesses,  and  in  her 
rooms  there  was  never  an  undue  preponderance 
of  any  one  social  ingredient.  Every  class  — 
above  a  certain  line,  not  drawn  too  high  —  was 
represented ;  none  was  over  done ;  nor  was  the 
mistake  made  of  "  packing  "  the  assembly  with 
interesting  people.  The  very  necessary  comple- 
ment of  the  merely  interested  was  never  wanting. 
One  met  beauty  as  Avell  as  brains ;  wealth  as 
well  as  wit ;  and  quite  as  many  colourless  non- 
44 


NOT  IN  THE  PROGRAMME  45 

entities  as  notorieties  of  every  hue.  The  pro- 
portion was  always  perfect,  but  not  more  so  than 
the  general  good-temper  of  the  guests.  They 
foregfathered  like  lono--lost  brothers  and  sisters : 
the  demagogue  and  the  divine ;  the  judge  and 
the  junior ;  the  oldest  lady  and  the  newest 
woman ;  the  amateur  playwright  and  the  actor- 
manager  who  had  lost  his  pla}'- ;  the  minor 
novelist  and  the  young  lady  who  had  never 
heard  of  him ;  and  my  Lords  and  Ladies  (whose 
carriages  half-filled  the  Square)  with  the  very 
least  of  these.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  them 
together ;  it  was  a  solemn  thought,  but  yet  a 
fact,  that  their  heavenly  behaviour  was  due 
simply  and  entirely  to  the  administrative  genius 
of  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood. 

The  Home  Secretary  hated  the  Wednesdays ; 
he  was  the  one  person  who  did ;  and  he  only 
hated  them  because  they  ^vere  Wednesdays  — 
and  from  the  period  of  his  elderly  infatuation 
for  golf.  It  was  his  great  day  for  a  round  ;  and 
Lady  Caroline  had  to  make  his  excuses  every 
week  when  it  was  fine.  This  was  another  thing 
which  her  Ladyship  did  beautifully.  She  Avould 
say,  with  a  voice  full  of  sympathy,  equally 
divided  between  those  mutual  losers,  her  guest 
and  her  husband,  that  poor  dear  George  had  to 
address  such  and  such  a  tiresome  deputation ; 


46-  MY  LORD  DUKE 

when,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  "  addressing  " 
his  golf-ball  on  Wimbledon  Common,  and  enjoy- 
ing himself  exceedingly.  Now,  among  other 
Wednesdays,  the  Home  Secretary  was  down  at 
Wimbledon  (with  a  prominent  member  of  the 
Opposition)  on  the  afternoon  following  the 
arrival  in  London  of  the  ninth  Duke  of  St.  Os- 
mund's ;  and  Mr.  Sellwood  never  knew  whether 
to  pity  his  wife,  or  to  congratulate  himself,  on 
his  absence  from  her  side  on  that  occasion. 

One  of  their  constant  ornaments,  Claude  La- 
font,  had  been  forced  to  eschew  these  Wednes- 
days of  late  weeks.  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood 
had  never  been  quite  the  same  to  him  since  the 
Easter  Recess.  She  had  treated  him  from  that 
time  with  a  studied  coolness  quite  inexplicable  to 
his  simple  mind ;  and  finally,  at  Lady  Darling- 
ford's,  she  had  been  positively  rude.  Claude,  of 
course,  had  gone  there  expressly  to  prepare 
Lady  Caroline  for  the  new  Duke.  This  he 
conceived  to  be  his  immediate  duty,  and  he 
attempted  to  perform  it,  in  the  kindliest  spirit 
imaginable,  with  all  the  tact  at  his  command. 
Lady  Caroline  declined  to  hear  him  out.  She 
chose  to  put  a  sinister  construction  upon  his 
well-meant  words,  and  to  interrupt  them  with 
the  announcement  that  she  intended,  with 
Claude's  permission,  to  judge  the  Duke  for  her- 


NOT  IN  THE  PROGRAMME  47 

self.  Was  lie  married  ?  Ha !  then  where  was 
he  to  be  found?  Claude  told  her,  was  coldly 
thanked,  and  went  home  to  writhe  all  that 
Tuesday  night  under  the  mortification  of  his 
kinswoman's  snub. 

Yet,  on  the  Wednesday  afternoon,  Claude  La- 
font  not  only  went  to  the  Sellwoods'  as  though 
nothing  had  happened,  but  he  was  there  before 
the  time.  And  Lady  Caroline  was  not  only 
amazed,  but  (for  the  first  time  since  Easter) 
really  pleased  to  see  him :  for  already  she  had 
been  given  cause  to  regret  her  insolent  disregard 
of  him  overnight  at  Lady  Darlingford's.  She 
was  even  composing  an  apology  when  the  white- 
ness of  Claude's  face  brought  her  thoughts  to 
a  standstill. 

"Have  you  seen  him?"  he  cried,  as  they 
met. 

"  The  Duke  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  haven't  you  seen  him  this  morning?  " 

"  No,  indeed !     Haven't  you  ?  " 

Claude  sat  down  with  a  groan,  shaking  his 
head,  and  never  seeing  the  glittering,  plump, 
outstretched  hand. 

"Haven't  you?"  repeated  Lady  Caroline,  sit- 
ting down  herself. 

"Not  this  morning.  I  made  sure  he  would 
come  here ! " 


48  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"So  he  ought  to  have  done.  I  asked  him  to 
lunch.  The  note  was  written  and  posted  the 
instant  we  came  in  from  the  Darlingfords'. 
Claude,  I  wasn't  nice  to  you  there !  Can  you 
forgive  me?  I  thought  you  were  prejudiced. 
My  dreadful  temper  rose  in  arms  on  the  side 
of  the  absent  man ;  it  always  was  my  great 
weakness  rightly  or  wrongly  to  take  the  part 
of  those  who  aren't  there  to  stick  up  for  them- 
selves ! " 

Her  great  weakness  was  of  quite  another 
character,  but  Claude  bowed.  He  was  barely 
listening. 

"I've  lost  him,"  he  said,  looking  at  Lady 
Caroline,  with  a  rolling  eye.  "He's  disap- 
peared." 

"  Never ! " 

"  This  morning,"  said  Claude.  "  I  did  so 
hope  he  was  here  !  " 

"He  sent  no  answer,  not  one  word,  and  he 
never  came.     Who  saw  him  last?  " 

"The  hotel  people,  early  this  morning.  It 
seems  he  ordered  a  horse  for  seven  o'clock, 
shortly  after  I  left  him  last  night.  So  they 
got  him  one,  and  off  he  went  before  breakfast 
in  the  flannel  collar  and  the  outrageous  bush 
wideawake  in  which  he  landed.  And  he's  never 
come  back." 


NOT  IN   THE  PROGRAMME  49 

A  change  came  over  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood. 
She  drew  her  chair  a  little  nearer,  and  she 
favoured  Claude  Lafont  with  a  kindlier  glance 
than  he  had  had  from  her  since  Easter. 

"  Something  may  have  happened,"  whispered 
Lady  Caroline  hopefully. 

"  That's  just  it.  Something  must  have  hap- 
pened." 

"  But  something  dreadful !  Only  last  season 
there  was  a  man  killed  in  the  Row !  Was  he 
—  a  very  rough  diamond,  Claude  ?  " 

"Very." 

Lady  Caroline  sighed  complacently. 

"But  you  can't  help  liking  him,"  hastily 
added  Claude,  "and  I  hope  to  goodness  noth- 
ing serious  is  the  matter  !  " 

"  Of  course,  so  do  I.  That  goes  without 
saying." 

"Nor  is  he  at  all  a  likely  man  to  be  thrown. 
He  has  lived  his  life  in  the  saddle.  By  the 
way,  he  brought  his  own  old  bush-saddle  with 
him,  and  it  appears  that  he  insisted  on  riding 
out  in  that  too." 

"You  see,  Claude,  it's  a  pity  you  didn't 
leave  him  in  the  bush;  he's  evidently  devoted 
to  it  still." 

"He  is  —  that's  the  trouble;  he  has  already 
spoken  of  bolting  back  there.     My  fear  is  that 


50  MY  LORD  DUKE 

he  may  even  now  be  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word." 

"Don't  tell  me  that,"  said  Lady  Caroline, 
whose  head  was  still  full  of  her  iSrst  theor3^ 

"It's  what  I  fear;  he's  just  the  sort  of  fellow 
to  go  back  by  the  first  boat,  if  the  panic  took 
him.  He  showed  signs  of  a  panic  last  night. 
You  see,  he's  only  just  beginning  to  realise 
what  his  position  here  will  mean.  And  it 
frightens  him ;  it  may  have  frightened  him  out 
of  our  sight  once  and  for  all." 

Lady  Caroline  shook  her  head. 

"My  fear  is  that  he  has  broken  his  neck! 
And  if  he  has,  depend  upon  it,  sad  as  it  would 
be,  it  would  still  be  for  the  best.  That's  what 
I  always  say:  everything  is  for  the  best," 
repeated  Lady  Caroline,  pensively  gazing  at 
Claude's  handsome  head.  "However,"  she 
added,  as  the  door  opened,  "here's  Olivia;  go 
and  ask  her  what  she  thinks.  I  am  prepared 
for  the  worst.  And  pray  stop,  dear  Claude, 
and  let  us  talk  the  matter  over  after  the  others 
have  gone.  We  may  know  the  worst  by  that 
time.  And  we  have  seen  nothing  of  you  this 
season !  " 

Olivia  looked  charming.  She  was  also  kind 
to  Claude.  But  she  entirely  declined  to  em- 
brace her  mother's  dark  view   of  the   Duke's 


NOT  IN  THE   PROGRAMME  51 

disappearance.  On  the  other  hand,  she  was 
inconveniently  inquisitive  about  his  looks  and 
personality,  and  Claude  had  to  say  many  words 
for  his  cousin  before  he  could  get  in  one  for 
himself.  However,  he  did  at  length  contrive 
to  speak  of  his  new  volume  of  poems.  It  was 
just  out.  He  was  having  a  copy  of  the  ex- 
ceedingly limited  large-paper  edition  specially 
bound  in  vellum  for  Olivia's  acceptance. 
Olivia  seemed  pleased,  and  apart  from  his 
anxiety  Claude  had  not  felt  so  happy  for 
weeks.  They  were  allowed  to  talk  to  each 
other  until  the  rooms  began  to  fill. 

It  was  a  very  good  Wednesday;  but  then  the 
season  was  at  its  height.  The  gathering  com- 
prised the  usual  measure  of  interesting  and 
interested  persons,  and  the  former  had  made 
their  names  upon  as  many  different  fields  as 
ever.  Claude  had  a  chat  with  his  friend, 
Edmund  Stubbs,  a  young  man  with  an  un- 
healthy skin  and  a  vague  reputation  for 
immense  cleverness.  They  spoke  of  the 
poems.  Stubbs  expressed  a  wish  to  see  the 
large-paper  edition,  which  was  not  yet  for  sale, 
as  did  Ivor  Llewellyn,  the  impressionist  artist, 
who  was  responsible  for  the  "decorations"  in 
most  volumes  of  contemporary  minor  verse, 
Claude's    included.      Claude   was    injudicious 


52  MY  LORD  DUKE 

enough  to  invite  both  men  to  his  rooms  that 
night.  The  Impressionist  was  the  most  re- 
markable-looking of  all  Lad}^  Caroline's  guests. 
He  wore  a  curled  fringe  and  a  flowing  tie,  and 
pince-nez  attached  to  his  person  by  a  broad 
black  ribbon.  His  pale  face  was  prematurely- 
drawn,  and  he  showed  his  gums  in  a  deathly 
grin  at  the  many  hard  things  which  Stubbs 
muttered  at  the  expense  of  all  present  whom 
he  knew  by  sight.  Claude  had  a  high  opinion 
of  both  these  men,  but  for  once  he  was  scarcely 
in  tune  for  their  talk,  which  was  ever  at  a 
sort  of  artistic-intellectual  concert-pitch.  The 
Duke  was  to  be  forgotten  in  the  society  of 
Olivia  only.  Claude  therefore  edged  away, 
trod  pn  the  skirts  of  a  titled  divorcee,  got 
jammed  between  an  Irish  member  and  a  com- 
poser of  comic  songs,  and  was  finally  engaged 
in  conversation  by  the  aged  police  magistrate. 
Sir  Joseph  Todd. 

Sir  Joseph  had  lowered  his  elephantine  form 
into  a  chair  beside  the  tea-table,  where  he  sat, 
with  his  great  cane  between  his  enormous  legs, 
munching  cake  like  a  school-boy  and  winking 
at  his  friends.  He  winked  at  Claude.  The 
magistrate  had  been  a  journalist,  and  a  scan- 
dalous Bohemian,  so  he  said,  in  his  young 
days;  he  had  given  Claude  introductions  and 


NOT  IN  THE  PROGRAMME  53 

advice  when  the  latter  took  to  his  pen.  He, 
also,  inquired  after  the  new  book,  but  rather 
grimly,  and  expressed  himself  with  the  rough 
edge  of  his  tongue  on  the  subject  of  modern 
"poets"  and  "poetry":  the  inverted  commas 
were  in  his  voice. 

"You  young  spring  poets,"  said  he,  "are  too 
tender  by  half;  you're  all  white  meat  together. 
You  'may  say  that's  no  reason  why  I  should 
have  my  knife  in  you.  Why  didn't  you  say 
it?  A  bad  joke  would  be  a  positive  treat  from 
you  precious  young  fellows  of  to-day.  And 
you  give  us  bad  lyrics  instead,  in  limited  edi- 
tions; that's  the  way  it  takes  you  now." 

Claude  laughed;  he  was  absurdly  good- 
humoured  under  hostile  criticism,  a  quality  of 
which  some  of  his  literary  friends  were  apt  to 
take  advantage.  On  this  occasion,  however, 
his  unconcern  was  partly  due  to  inattention. 
While  listening  to  his  old  friend  he  was  think- 
ing still  of  the  Duke. 

"I'm  sorry  you  would  be  a  poet,  Claude," 
the  magistrate  continued.  "  The  price  of  poets 
has  gone  down  since  my  day.  And  you'd  have 
done  so  much  better  in  the  House  —  by  which, 
of  course,  I  mean  the  House  we  all  thought 
you  were  bound  for.  Has  he  —  has  he  turned 
up  yet?" 


64  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"Oh  yes;  lie's  in  England,"  replied  Claude, 
with  discretion. 

Sir  Joseph  pricked  his  ears,  but  curbed  his 
tongue.  Of  all  the  questions  that  gathered  on 
his  lips,  only  one  was  admissible,  even  in  so 
old  a  friend  as  himself. 

"A  family  man?" 

"No;  a  bachelor." 

"Capital!  We  shall  see  some  fun,  eh?" 
chuckled  Sir  Joseph,  gobbling  the  last  of  his 
last  slice.  "  What  a  quarry  —  what  a  prize ! 
I  was  reminded  of  him  only  this  morning, 
Claude.  I  had  an  Australian  up  before  me  — 
a  most  astounding  fellow!  An  escaped  bush- 
ranger, I  should  call  him ;  looked  as  if  he'd  been 
cut  straight  out  of  a  penny  dreadful;  never 
saw  such  a  man  in  my  life.     However " 

Claude  was  not  listening;  his  preoccupation 
was  this  time  palpable.  The  mouth  of  him 
was  open,  and  his  eyes  were  fixed;  the  police 
magistrate  followed  their  lead,  with  double 
eye-glasses  in  thick  gold  frames ;  and  then  his 
mouth  opened  too. 

Her  guests  were  making  way  for  Lady  Caro- 
line Sellwood,  who  was  leading  towards  the 
tea-table,  by  his  horny  hand,  none  other  than 
the  ninth  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  himself.  Her 
Ladyship's  face  was  radiant  with  smiles ;  yet 


NOT  IN   THE  PROGRAMME  55 

the  Duke  was  just  as  he  had  been  the  day 
before,  as  unkempt,  as  undressed  (his  Crimean 
shirt  had  a  flannel  colhir,  but  no  tie),  as  round- 
shouldered;  with  his  nose  and  ears  still  flayed 
by  the  sun;  and  the  notorious  wideawake 
tucked  under  his  arm. 

"He  has  come  straight  from  the  bush,"  her 
Ladyship  informed  everybody  (as  though  she 
meant  some  shrub  in  the  Square  garden),  "  and 
just  as  he  is.  I  call  it  so  sweet  of  him !  You 
know  you'll  never  look  so  picturesque  again, 
my  dear  Duke!  " 

Olivia  followed  with  the  best  expression  her 
frank  face  could  muster.  Claude  took  his 
cousin's  hand  in  a  sudden  hush. 

"  Where  in  the  world  have  you  been  ?  "  broke 
from  him  before  them  all. 

"Been?  I've  been  run  in,"  replied  the 
Duke,  with  a  smack  of  his  bearded  grinning 
lips. 

"Tea  or  coffee,  Duke?"  said  Lady  Caroline, 
all  smiling  tolerance.  "Tea?  A  cup  of  tea 
for  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's.  And  where  do 
you  say  you  have  been  ?  " 

"Locked  up!"  said  his  Grace.  "In  choky, 
if  you  like  it  better!  " 

Lady  Caroline  herself  led  the  laugh.  The 
situation    was    indeed    worthy    of    her    finely 


66  MY  LORD  DUKE 

tempered  steel,  her  consummate  tact,  her  in- 
stinctive dexterity.  Many  a  grander  dame 
would  have  essayed  to  quell  that  incriminating 
tongue.  Not  so  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood.  She 
took  her  Australian  wild  bull  very  boldly  by 
the  horns. 

"I  do  believe," she  cried,  "that  you  are  what 
we  have  all  of  us  been  looking  for  —  in  real 
life — all  our  days.  I  do  believe  you  are  the 
shocking  Duke  of  those  dreadful  melodramas 
in  the  flesh  at  last!  What  was  your  crime? 
Ah!  I've  no  doubt  you  cannot  tell  us!  " 

"Can  I  not?"  cried  the  Duke,  as  Claude 
stopped  him,  unobserved,  from  pouring  his  tea 
into  the  saucer.  "I'll  tell  you  all  about  it, 
and  perhaps  you'll  show  me  where  the  crime 
comes  in,  for  I'm  bothered  if  I  see  it  yet.  All 
I  did  was  to  have  a  gallop  along  one  of  j^our 
streets;  I  don't  even  know  which  street  it  was; 
but  there's  a  round  clearing  at  one  end,  then  a 
curve,  and  then  another  clearing  at  the  far 
end." 

"Regent  Street,"  murmured  Claude. 

"  That's  the  name.  Well,  it  was  quite  early, 
there  was  hardly  anybody  about,  so  I  thought 
surely  to  goodness  there  could  be  no  harm  in  a 
gallop ;  and  I  had  one  from  clearing  to  clearing. 
Blowed    if   they  didn't  run    me    in   for  that! 


NOT  IN  THE  PROGRAMME  57 

They  kept  me  locked  up  all  the  morning. 
Then  they  took  me  before  a  fat  old  joker  who 
did  nothing  much  but  wink.  That  old  joker, 
though,  he  let  me  off,  so  I've  nothing  agen' 
him.  He's  a  white  man,  he  is.  So  here  I  am 
at  last,  having  got  your  invitation  to  lunch, 
ma'am,  just  half-an-hour  ago." 

Sir  Joseph  Todd  had  been  making  fruitless 
efforts  to  rise,  unaided,  from  his  chair;  he  now 
caught  Claude's  arm,  and  simultaneously,  the 
eye  of  the  Duke. 

"  Jumping  Moses ! "  roared  Jack ;  "  why,  there 
he  is!  I  beg  your  pardon,  mister;  but  who'd 
have  thought  of  finding  you  here?" 

"  This  is  pleasing,"  muttered  Edmund  Stubbs, 
in  the  background,  to  his  friend  the  Impres- 
sionist. "I've  seen  the  lion  and  the  lamb  lie 
down  here  together  before  to-day.  But  nothing 
like  this!" 

The  Impressionist  whipped  out  a  pencil  and 
bared  a  shirt-cuff.  No  one  saw  him.  All  eyes 
were  upon  the  Duke  and  the  magistrate,  who 
were  shaking  hands. 

"You  have  paid  me  a  valuable  compliment," 
croaked  Sir  Joseph  ga^dy.  "  Of  course  I 
winked!  Hadn't  I  my  Lord  Duke's  little 
peccadillo  to  wink  at?" 

And  he  bowed  himself  away  under  cover  of 


58  MY  LORD  DUKE 

his  joke,  which  also  helped  Lady  Caroline 
enormously.  The  Duke  mentioned  the  name 
by  which  he  would  go  down  to  posterity  on  a 
metropolitan  charge-sheet.  Most  people  re- 
sumed their  conversation.  A  few  still  laughed. 
And  the  less  seriously  the  whole  matter  was 
taken,  the  better,  of  course,  for  all  concerned, 
particularly  the  Duke.  Olivia  had  him  in 
hand  now.  And  her  mother  found  time  to 
exchange  a  few  words  with  Claude  Lafont. 

"A  dear  fellow,  is  he  not?  So  natural! 
Such  an  example  in  that  way  to  us  all!  How 
many  of  us  would  carry  ourselves  as  well  in  — 
in  our  bush  garments  ?  "  speculated  her  Lady- 
ship, for  the  benefit  of  more  ears  than  Claude's. 
Then  her  voice  sank  and  trembled.  "  Take  him 
away,  Claude,"  she  gasped  below  her  breath. 
"Take  him  away!  " 

"  I  intend  to,"  he  whispered,  nodding,  "when 
I  get  the  chance." 

"  But  not  only  from  here  — from  town  as  well. 
Carry  him  off  to  the  Towers !  And  when  you 
get  him  there,  for  heaven's  sake  keep  him 
there,  and  take  him  in  hand,  and  we  will  all 
come  down  in  August  to  see  what  you  have 
done." 

"I'm  quite  agreeable,  of  course;  but  what  if 
he  isn't?" 


NOT  IN   THE  PROGRAMME  59 

"He  will  be.  You  can  do  what  you  like 
with  liim.  I  have  discovered  that  alread}'- ;  he 
asked  at  once  if  you  were  here,  and  said  how 
he  liked  you.  Claude,  you  are  so  clever  and 
so  good !  If  any  one  can  make  him  presentable, 
it  is  you  I  "  She  was  wringing  her  white  hands 
whiter  yet. 

"I'll  do  my  best,  for  all  our  sakes.  I  must 
say  I  like  my  material." 

"Oh,  he's  a  dear  fellow!"  cried  Lady  Caro- 
line, dropping  her  hands  and  uplifting  her  voice 
once  more.  "  So  original  —  in  nothing  more 
than  in  his  moral  courage  —  his  superiority  to 
mere  conventional  appearances!  That  is  a 
lesson " 

Lady  Caroline  stopped  with  a  little  scream. 
In  common  with  others,  she  had  heard  the  high, 
shrill  mewing  of  a  kitten;  but  cats  were  a 
special  aversion  of  her  Ladyship's. 

"What  was  that?"  she  cried,  tugging  in- 
stinctively at  her  skirts. 

"Meow!  "  went  the  shrill  small  voice  again; 
and  all  eyes  fastened  upon  the  Duke  of  St. 
Osmund's,  whose  ready-made  coat-tails  were 
moving  like  a  bag  of  ferrets. 

The  Duke  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  and 
diving  in  his  coat-tail  pocket,  produced  the 
offending  kitten  in  his  great  fist.     Lady  Caro- 


60  MY  LORD  DUKE 

line  Sell  wood  took  a  step  backward;  and  be- 
cause she  did  not  lead  it,  there  was  no  laugh 
this  time  from  her  guests;  and  because  there 
was  no  laugh  but  his  own,  the  Duke  looked 
consciously  awkward  for  the  first  time.  In 
fact,  it  was  the  worst  moment  yet;  the  next, 
however,  Olivia's  pink  palms  were  stretched 
out  for  the  kitten,  and  Olivia's  laughing  voice 
was  making  the  sweetest  music  that  ever  had 
gladdened  the  heart  of  the  Duke. 

"  The  little  darling !  "  cried  the  girl  with 
genuine  delight.     "  Let  me  have  it,  do !  " 

He  gave  it  to  her  without  a  word,  but  with 
eyes  that  clung  as  fast  to  her  face  as  the  tiny 
claws  did  to  her  dress.  Olivia's  attention  was 
all  for  the  kitten ;  she  was  serenely  unconscious 
of  that  devouring  gaze;  but  Claude  saw  it,  and 
winced.     And  Lady  Caroline  saw  it  too. 

"Poor  mite!"  pursued  Olivia,  stroking  the 
bunch  of  black  fur  with  a  cheek  as  soft. 
"What  a  shame  to  keep  it  smothered  up  in 
a  stuffy  pocket !  Are  3^ou  fond  of  cats?"  she 
asked  the  Duke. 

"Am  I  not!  They  were  my  only  mates  up 
the  bush.  I  brought  over  three  besides  the 
kitten." 

"You  brought  them  from  the  bush?" 

"I  did  so!" 


NOT  IN  THE  PROGRAMME  61 

Olivia  looked  at  him ;  his  eyes  had  never  left 
her;  she  dropped  hers,  and  caressed  the  kitten. 

"I  put  that  one  in  my  pocket,"  continued 
the  Duke,  "because  I  learned  Livingstone  to 
ride  in  front  of  me  when  he  was  just  such 
another  little  'un.  But  he'd  done  a  bolt  in 
the  night;  I  found  him  just  now  with  his  tliree 
working  paws  black  with  your  London  soot; 
but  he  wasn't  there  when  I  got  up,  so  I  took 
the  youngster.  P'r'aps  it  wasn't  over  kind. 
It  won't  happen  again.     He's  yours!  " 

"The  kitten?" 

"Why,  certainly." 

"To  keep?" 

"If  you  will.     I'd  be  proud!  " 

"Then  I  am  proud.  And  I'll  try  to  be  as 
kind  to  it  as  you  would  have  been." 

"You're  uncommon  kind  to  me,"  remarked 
the  Duke  irrelevantly.  "So  are  you  all,"  he 
added,  in  a  ringing  voice,  as  he  drew  himself 
up  to  his  last  inch,  and  for  once  stood  clear 
of  the  medium  height.  "I  never  knew  that 
there  were  so  many  of  you  here,  or  I'd  have 
kept  away.  I'm  just  as  I  stepped  off  of  the 
ship.  I  went  aboard  pretty  much  as  I  left  the 
bush;  if  you'll  make  allowances  for  me  this 
time,  it  sha'n't  hapj)en  again.  You  don't  catch 
me  twice  in  a  rig  like  this  I     Meanwhile,  it's 


62  MY  LORD  DUKE 

very  kind  of  you  all  not  to  laugh  at  a  fellow. 
I'm  much  obliged  to  you.  I  am  so.  And  I 
hope  we  shall  know  each  other  better  before 
long!" 

Claude  was  not  ashamed  of  him  then.  There 
was  no  truer  dignity  beneath  the  ruffles  and 
periwigs  of  their  ancestors  in  the  Maske  pict- 
ure-gallery than  that  of  the  rude,  blunt  fellow 
who  could  face  modestly  and  yet  kindly  a 
whole  roomful  of  well-dressed  Londoners.  It 
did  not  desert  him  as  he  shook  hands  with 
Lady  Caroline  and  Olivia.  In  another  moment 
the  Duke  was  gone,  and  of  his  own  accord, 
before  he  had  been  twenty  minutes  in  the 
house.  And  what  remained  of  that  Wednes- 
day afternoon  fell  flat  and  stale  —  always  ex- 
cepting the  little  formula  with  which  Lady 
Caroline  Sellwood  sped  her  parting  guests. 

"Poor  fellow,"  it  ran,  "he  has  roughed  it  so 
dreadfully  in  that  horrible  bush!  You  won't 
know  him  the  next  time  you  see  him.  Yes,  I 
assure  you,  he  went  straight  on  board  at  that 
end  and  came  straight  to  us  at  this !  Not 
a  day  for  anything  in  Melbourne  or  here. 
Actually  not  one  day!  I  thought  it  so  dear 
of  him  to  come  as  he  was.     Didn't  you? " 


CHAPTER   V 

WITH   THE  ELECT 

The  ragged  beard  liad  been  trimmed  to  a 
point ;  the  uncouth  hair  had  been  cut,  sham- 
pooed, and  invested  with  a  subtle,  inoffensive 
aroma;  and  a  twenty-five-shilling  Lincoln  and 
Bennett  crowned  all  without  palpable  incon- 
gruity. The  brown,  chapped  neck,  on  the  other 
hand,  did  look  browner  and  rougher  than  before 
in  the  cold  clutch  of  a  gleaming  stand-up  collar. 
And  a  like  contrast  was  observable  between  the 
ample  cuffs  of  a  brand-new  shirt,  and  the  Duke's 
hands,  on  whose  hirsute  backs  the  3'ellow  freckles 
now  stood  out  like  half-sovereigns.  Jack  drew 
the  line  at  gloves.  On  the  whole,  however,  his 
docility  had  passed  all  praise  ;  he  even  consented 
to  burden  himself  with  a  most  superfluous  Inver- 
ness cape,  all  for  the  better  concealment  of  the 
ready-made  suit.  In  fine,  a  few  hours  had  made 
quite  a  paiufuUy  new  man  of  him ;  yet  perhaps 
the  only  real  loss  was  that  of  his  good  spirits ; 
and  these  he  had  left,  not  in  any  of  the  shops  to 

63 


64  MY  LORD  DUKE 

which  Claude  had  taken  him  before  dinner,  but, 
since  then,  in  his  own  house  in  Belgrave  Square. 

Claude  had  shown  him  over  it  between  nine 
and  ten ;  they  were  now  arm-in-arm  on  their 
way  from  this  errand,  and  the  street-lamps 
shone  indifferently  on  the  Duke's  dejection  and 
on  Claude's  relief.  He  had  threatened  instant 
occupation  of  his  own  town-house  ;  he  had  con- 
ceived nightmare  hospitalities  towards  all  and 
sundry  ;  and  had  stuck  to  his  guns  against  argu- 
ment with  an  obstinacy  which  made  Claude's  hair 
stand  on  end.  Now  the  Duke  had  less  to  say. 
He  had  seen  his  house.  The  empty,  echoing, 
inhospitable  rooms,  with  perhaps  a  handful  of 
electric  lights  freezing  out  of  the  darkness  as 
they  entered,  had  struck  a  chill  to  his  genial 
heart.  And  Claude  knew  it  as  he  led  the  way 
to  his  own  cosy  chambers ;  but  was  reminded 
of  another  thing  as  he  approached  them,  and 
became  himself,  on  the  spot,  a  different  man. 

He  had  forgotten  the  two  friends  he  had  in- 
vited to  come  in  for  a  private  view  of  the 
large-paper  edition.  He  was  reminded  of  them 
by  seeing  from  the  street  his  open  window  filled 
with  light ;  and  his  manner  had  entirely  altered 
when  he  detained  the  Duke  below,  and  sought 
with  elaborate  phrases  to  impress  him  before- 
hand with  the  transcendent  merits  of  the  couple 


WITH  THE  ELECT  65 

whom  he  was  about  to  meet.  Jack  promptly 
offered  to  go  away.  He  had  never  heard  tell  of 
Impressionism,  and  artists  were  not  in  his  line. 
What  about  the  other  joker  ?  What  did  he  do  ? 
"Nothing,  my  dear  fellow;  he's  far  too  good 
a  man  to  do  things,"  explained  Claude,  whose 
changed  speech  inclined  the  other  to  flight  quite 
as  much  as  his  accounts  of  the  men  upstairs. 
"  The  really  delicate  brains  —  the  most  highly 
sensitised  souls  — seldom  spend  themselves  upon 
mere  creative  work.  They  look  on,  and  possibly 
criticise  —  that  is,  when  they  meet  with  aught 
worthy  their  criticism.  My  friend,  Edmund 
Stubbs,  is  such  an  one.  He  has  a  sensitised  soul, 
if  you  like  !  His  artistic  standard  is  too  high, 
he  is  too  true  to  his  ideals,  to  produce  the  im- 
perfect. He  is  full  of  ideas ;  but  they  are  too 
big  for  brush,  pen,  or  chisel  to  express  them. 
On  the  other  hand,  he's  a  very  fountain  of  in- 
spiration, tempered  by  critical  restraint,  to  many 
a  man  whose  name  (as  my  own)  is  possibly 
a  household  word  in  Clapham,  where  poor  Ed- 
mund's is  unknown.  Not  that  I  should  pity  him 
on  that  score  ;  he  has  a  holy  scorn  for  what  him- 
self would  call  a  'suburban  popularity';  and, 
indeed,  I  am  not  with  him  in  his  views  as  to  the 
indignity  of  fame  generally.  But  there,  he  is  a 
bright  particular  star  who  is  content  to  shine  for 


66  ^^y  LORD  DUKE 

the  favoured  few  who  have  the  privilege  of  call- 
ing him  their  friend." 

"  You  do  talk  like  a  book,  and  no  error!"  said 
the  Duke.  "I  haven't  ever  heard  you  gas  on 
like  that  before." 

The  bright  particular  star  was  discovered  in 
Claude's  easiest  chair,  with  the  precious  volume 
in  one  hand,  and  a  tall  glass,  nearly  empty,  in 
the  other;  the  Impressionist  was  in  the  act  of 
replacing  the  stopper  in  the  whisky-decanter; 
and  Claude  accepted  the  somewhat  redundant 
explanation,  that  they  were  making  themselves 
at  home,  with  every  sign  of  approval.  Nor  was 
he  slow  in  introducing  his  friends ;  but  for  once 
the  Duke  was  refreshingly  subdued,  if  not  shy ; 
and  for  the  first  few  minutes  the  others  had  their 
heads  together  over  the  large-paper  edition,  for 
whose  "decorations"  the  draftsman  himself  had 
not  the  least  to  say,  where  all  admired.  At 
length  Claude  passed  the  open  volume  to  his 
cousin ;  needless  to  say  it  was  open  at  the  fron- 
tispiece ;  but  the  first  and  only  thing  that  Jack 
saw  was  the  author's  name  in  red  capitals  on  the 
title-page  opposite. 

"  Claude  Lafont !  "  he  read  out.  "  Why,  you 
don't  ever  mean  —  to  tell  me  —  that's  you,  old 
brusher?  " 

Claude  smiled  and  coloured. 


WITH  THE  ELECT  67 

"  You  an  author ! "  continued  the  Duke  in  a 
wide-eyed  wonder.  "And  you  never  told  me! 
Well,  no  wonder  you  can  talk  like  a  book  when 
you  can  write  one,  too !  So  this  is  your  latest, 
is  it?" 

"  The  limited  large-paper  edition,"  said  Claude. 
"  Only  seventy-five  copies  printed,  and  I  sign 
them  all.  How  does  it  strike  you  —  physically, 
I  mean?" 

"  '  Physically '  is  quite  pleasing,"  murmured 
Stubbs;  and  Claude  helped  him  to  more  whisky. 

Jack  looked  at  the  book.  The  back  was  of  a 
pale  brown  cardboard ;  the  type  had  a  curious, 
olden  air  about  it ;  the  paper  was  thick,  and  its 
edges  elaborately  ragged.  The  Duke  asked  if  it 
was  a  new  book.  It  looked  to  him  a  hundred 
years  old,  he  said,  and  discovered  that  he  had 
paid  a  pretty  compliment  unawares. 

"  There's  one  thing,  however,"  he  added :  "we 
could  chop  leaves  as  well  as  that  in  the  back- 
blocks  ! " 

The  Impressionist  grinned ;  his  friend  drank 
deep,  with  a  corrugated  brow;  the  poet  ex- 
pounded the  beauties  of  the  rough  edge,  and 
Jack  gave  him  back  his  book. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it,"  said  he  ;  "but  still, 
I'm  proud  of  you,  I  am  so.  And  I'm  proud," 
he  added,  "  to  find  myself  in  such  company  as 


68  MY  LORD  DUKE 

yours,  gentlemen ;  though  I  don't  mind  telling 
you,  if  I'd  known  I'd  be  the  only  plain  man  in 
the  room  I'd  never  have  come  upstairs  !  " 

And  the  Duke  sat  down  in  a  corner,  with  his 
knife,  his  tobacco,  and  his  cutty-pipe,  as  shy  as 
a  great  boy  in  a  roomful  of  girls.  Yet  this  wore 
off,  for  the  conversation  of  the  elect  did  not, 
after  all,  rarefy  the  atmosphere  to  oppression ; 
indeed,  that  of  the  sensitised  soul  contained 
more  oaths  than  Jack  had  heard  from  one  mouth 
since  he  left  the  bush,  and  this  alone  was  enough 
to  put  him  at  his  ease.  At  the  same  time  he 
was  repelled,  for  it  appeared  to  be  a  character- 
istic of  the  great  Stubbs  to  turn  up  his  nose  at 
all  men ;  and  as  that  organ  was  retrousse  to 
begin  with.  Jack  was  forcibly  reminded  of  some 
ill-bred,  snarling  bulldog,  and  he  marvelled  at 
the  hound's  reputation.  He  put  in  no  word, 
however,  until  the  conversation  turned  on 
Claude's  poems,  and  a  particularly  cool,  coarse 
thing  was  said  of  one  of  them,  and  Claude  only 
laughed.     Then  he  did  speak  up. 

"See  here,  mister,"  he  blurted  out  from  his 
corner.     "  Could  you  do  as  good  ?  " 

Stubbs  stared  at  the  Duke,  and  drained  his  glass. 

"  I  shouldn't  tr}',"  was  his  reply. 

"I  wouldn't,"  retorted  Jack.  "I  just  wouldn't, 
if  I  were  you." 


WITH  THE  ELECT  69 

Stubbs  could  better  have  parried  a  less  indeli- 
cate, a  less  childish  thrust ;  as  it  was,  he  reached 
for  his  hat.     Claude  interfered  at  once. 

"  My  dear  old  fellow,"  said  he  to  Jack,  "  you 
mustn't  mind  what  my  friend  Edmund  says  of 
my  stuff.  I  like  it.  He  is  always  right,  for 
one  thing ;  and  then,  only  think  of  the  privilege 
of  having  such  a  critic  to  tell  one  exactly  what 
he  thinks." 

Jack  looked  from  one  man  to  the  other.  The 
sincerity  of  the  last  speech  was  not  absolutely 
convincing,  but  that  of  Claude's  feeling  for  his 
friend  was  obvious  enough ;  and,  with  a  laugh, 
the  Duke  put  his  back  against  the  door.  The 
apology  which  he  delivered  in  that  position  was 
in  all  respects  characteristic.  It  was  unneces- 
sarily full ;  it  was  informed  alike  by  an  extrava- 
gant good-will  towards  mankind,  and  an  irritat- 
ing personal  humility ;  and  it  ended,  somewhat 
to  Claude's  dismay,  with  a  direct  invitation  to 
both  his  friends  to  spend  a  month  at  Maske 
Towers. 

Perhaps  these  young  men  realised  then,  for 
the  first  time,  who  the  rough  fellow  was,  after 
all,  with  whom  they  had  been  thrown  in  con- 
tact. At  all  events  the  double  invitation  was 
accepted  with  alacrity  ;  and  no  more  hard  things 
were  said  of  Claude's  lyrics.     The  flow  of  soul 


70  MY  LORD  DUKE 

was  henceforth  as  uninterrupted  as  that  of  the 
whisky  down  the  visitors'  throats.  And  no 
further  hitch  would  have  occurred  had  the  Im- 
pressionist not  made  that  surreptitious  sketch 
of  the  Duke,  which  so  delighted  his  friends. 

"Oh,  admirable!"  cried  Claude.  "A  most 
suggestive  humouresque ! " 

"It'll  do,"  said  Stubbs,  the  oracle.  "It 
mightn't  appeal  to  the  suburbs,  damn  them,  but 
it  does  to  us." 

"  Grant  the  convention,  and  the  art  is  perfect," 
continued  Claude,  with  the  tail  of  his  eye  on 
Jack. 

"  It  is  the  caricature  that  is  more  like  than 
life,"  pursued  Stubbs,  with  a  sidelong  glance  in 
the  same  direction. 

Jack  saw  these  looks  ;  but  from  his  corner  he 
could  not  see  the  sketch,  nor  had  he  any  sus- 
picion of  its  subject.  All  else  that  he  noted 
was  the  flush  of  triumph,  or  it  may  have  been 
whisky,  or  just  possibly  both,  on  the  pale, 
fringed  face  of  Impressionism.  He  held  out 
his  hand  for  the  half-sheet  of  paper  on  which 
the  sketch  had  been  made. 

"  I  hope  it  won't  offend  you,"  exclaimed  the 
artist,  hesitating. 

"  Offend  me  !  Why  should  it  ?  Let's  have 
a  look ! " 


WITH   THE   ELECT  71 

And  he  looked  for  more  than  a  minute  at  the 
five  curves  and  a  beard  which  had  expressed  to 
quicker  eyes  the  quintessence  of  his  own  out- 
ward and  visible  personality.  At  first  he  could 
make  nothing  of  them ;  even  when  an  inter- 
pretation dawned  upon  him,  his  face  was  puz- 
zled as  he  raised  it  to  the  trio  hanging  on  his 
words. 

"It  won't  do,  mister,"  said  the  Duke  reluc- 
tantly. "  You'll  never  get  saplings  like  them," 
tapping  the  five  curves  with  his  forefinger,  "  to 
hold  a  nest  like  that,"  putting  his  thumb  on  the 
beard,  "  and  don't  you  believe  it." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Then  the 
Impressionist  said  thickly: 

"  Give  me  that  sketch." 

Jack  handed  it  back.  In  another  moment  it 
was  littering  the  ground  in  four  pieces,  and  the 
door  had  banged  beliind  the  indignant  drafts- 
man. 

"  What  on  earth  have  I  done  ? "  cried  the 
Duke,  aghast. 

"  You  have  offended  Llewellyn,"  replied 
Claude  shortly. 

"How?  By  what  I  said?  I'll  run  after  him 
this  minute  and  apologise.  I  never  meant  to 
hurt  his  feelings.     Where's  that  stove-pipe  hat  ?  " 

"Let  me  go,"  said  Stubbs,  getting  up.     "I 


72  MY  LORD  DUKE 

understand  the  creative  animal ;  it  is  thin- 
skinned;  but  I'll  tell  our  friend  what  you 
say." 

"I  wish  you  would.  Tell  him  1  meant  no 
harm.  And  fetch  him  down  with  you  just 
whenever  you  can  come." 

"  Thanks  —  that  will  be  very  pleasing.  I 
daresay  August  will  be  our  best  time,  but  we 
shall  let  you  know.  I'll  put  it  all  right  with 
Ivor ;  but  these  creative  asses  (saving  your 
presence,  Lafont)  never  can  see  a  joke." 

"  A  joke !  "  cried  Jack,  when  he  and  Claude 
were  alone. 

"  Stubbs  is  ironical,"  said  Claude  severely. 

"  Look  here,"  said  the  Duke,  "  what  are  you 
givin'  us,  old  boy?  Seems  to  me  you  clever 
touchers  have  been  getting  at  a  cove  between 
you.     Where  does  this  joke  come  in,  eh  ?  " 

And  his  good  faith  was  so  obvious  that 
Claude  picked  up  the  four  quarters  of  torn 
paper,  fitted  them  together,  and  entered  upon 
yet  another  explanation.  This  one,  however, 
was  somewhat  impatiently  given  and  received. 
The  Duke  professed  to  think  his  likeness  ex- 
ceedingly unlike  —  when,  indeed,  he  could  be 
got  to  see  his  own  outlines  at  all  —  and  Claude 
disagreeing,  a  silence  fell  between  the  pair. 
Jack  sought  to  break  it  by  taking  off  his  collar 


WITH  THE   ELECT  73 

(which  had  made  him  miserable)  and  putting  it 
in  his  pocket  with  a  significant  look ;  but  the 
act  provoked  no  comment.  So  the  two  men 
sat,  the  one  smoking  cigarettes,  the  other  his 
cutty,  but  neither  speaking,  nor  yet  reading 
a  line.  And  the  endless  roar  of  Piccadilly, 
reaching  them  through  the  open  windows,  em- 
phasised their  silence,  until  suddenly  it  sank 
beneath  the  midnight  chimes  of  the  city  clocks. 
In  another  minute  a  tiny,  tinkling  echo  came 
from  Claude's  chimney-piece,  and  the  Duke  put 
down  his  pipe  and  spoke. 

"  My  first  whole  day  in  London — a  goner,"  he 
said ;  "  and  a  pretty  full  day  it's  been.  Listen 
to  this  for  one  day's  work,"  and  as  he  rehearsed 
them,  he  ticked  off  the  events  on  his  great 
brown  finnrers.  "  Got  run  in  —  that's  number 
one.  Turned  up  among  a  lot  of  swells  in  my 
old  duds  —  number  two.  Riled  the  cleverest 
man  you  know  —  number  three  —  so  that  he 
nearly  cleared  out  of  your  rooms;  and,  not 
content  with  that,  hurt  the  feelings  of  the  sec- 
ond cleverest  (present  company  excepted)  so 
that  he  did  clear  —  which  is  number  four. 
Worst  of  all,  riled  you,  old  man,  and  hurt  your 
feelings  too.  That's  the  finisher.  And  see 
here,  Claude,  it  isn't  good  enough  and  it  won't 
do.     I  won't  wash  in  London,  and  I'm  full  up 


74  MY  LORD  DUKE 

of  the  hole ;  as  for  my  own  house,  it  gave  me 
the  fair  hump  the  moment  I  put  my  nose  in- 
side ;  and  I'd  be  on  to  make  tracks  up  the 
bush  any  day  you  like  —  if  it  weren't  for  one 
thing." 

"What's  that,"  said  Claude,  "if  it's  a  fair 
question?" 

The  other  concealed  his  heightened  colour 
by  relighting  his  pipe  and  puffing  vigorously. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  he;  "it's  that  old  girl 
and  —  what's  the  daughter's  name  again  ?  " 

"  Olivia." 

"  Olivia.  A  beautiful  name  for  a  beautiful 
girl !     She's  all  that  and  more." 

"  And  much  more." 

"You  see,  she's  as  good  inside  as  out;  she 
has  a  kind  heart." 

"I  have  always  found  it  so,"  said  Claude, 
"  and  I've  known  her  since  she  was  a  child." 

The  two  kinsmen,  who  had  been  so  wide 
apart  a  few  minutes  since,  were  now  more  than 
ever  mutually  akin.  They  drew  their  chairs 
together;  but  the  touchstone  was  deep  down 
in  either  heart. 

"  You  knew  her  when  she  was  a  child ! "  re- 
peated the  Duke  in  a  kind  of  awe.  "Yes;  and 
I  daresay,  now,  you  used  to  play  with  her,  and 
perhaps  take  her  on  your  knee,  and  even  pull 


WITH   THE   ELECT  75 

her  hair  and  kiss  her  in  them  old  days.  Yet 
there  you  sit  smoking  cigarettes  !  " 

His  own  pipe  was  out.  He  was  in  a  reverie. 
Claude  also  had  his  own  thoughts. 

"  The  one  thing  was  this,"  said  the  Duke  at 
length:  "would  the  old  woman  and  her  daugh- 
ter come  to  see  us  up  the  country  ?  " 

Claude  was  torn  two  ways.  The  Towers 
scheme  was  no  longer  his  first  anxiety.  He  re- 
turned to  it  by  an  effort. 

"They  would,"  he  said.  "Lady  Caroline 
told  me  so.  They  would  come  like  a  shot  in 
Augfust.     She  said  so  herself." 

"Would  you  put  me  up  to  things  in  the 
meantime?  Would  you  be  showing  me  the 
ropes  ?  " 

"  The  very  thing  I  should  like  to  do,  so  far  as 
I  am  able." 

"  Then  we'll  start  to-morrow  —  I  mean  to-day. 
That  settles  it.     And  yet " 

"  Out  with  it,"  said  Claude,  smiling. 

"Well,  I  will.  I  mean  no  harm,. you  under- 
stand. Who  am  I  to  dare  to  look  at  her  ?  Only 
I  do  feel  as  if  that  girl  would  do  me  a  deal  of 
good  down  there  —  you  know,  in  making  me 
more  the  sort  of  chap  for  my  billet.  But  if 
she's  gone  and  got  a  sweetheart,  he  might  very 
easily  object ;  so  I  just  thought  I'd  like  to  know." 


76  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"She  hasn't  one,  to  my  knowledge,"  said 
Claude  at  length. 

"Is  that  a  fact?"  cried  the  Duke.  "Well, 
I  don't  know  what  all  you  fellows  are  thinking 
of,  but  I  do  know  that  I  am  jolly  glad.  Not 
from  any  designs  of  my  own,  mind  you  —  I 
haven't  as  much  cheek  as  all  that  —  but  to  save 
trouble.  Do  you  know,  Claudy,  I've  had  a 
beast  of  a  thought  off  and  on  all  the  night  ?  " 

"No;  what  was  that?" 

"  Why,  I  half  suspected  she  was  your  own 
girl." 


CHAPTER   VI 

A  NEW   LEAP 

"The  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  and  Mr.  Claude 
Lafont  left  town  yesterday  for  Maske  Towers, 
the  family  seat  near  Devenholme."  So  ran  the 
announcement  in  the  morning  papers  of  the  next 
day  but  one.  And  the  Duke  was  actually  ex- 
ploring his  inheritance  when  it  appeared. 

Overnight  the  pair  had  arrived  too  late  to  see 
much  more  than  the  lofty,  antique  hall  and  the 
respective  rooms  in  which  they  were  to  sup  and 
sleep;  but  the  birds  awoke  Jack  in  the  early 
morning,  and  he  was  up  and  out  before  seven 
o'clock. 

As  yet  he  had  seen  little  that  attracted  liim 
within,  and  at  this  hour  he  felt  a  childish  horror 
of  the  dark  colossal  canvases  overhanging  the 
grand  staircase  and  the  hall ;  like  the  sightless 
suits  of  armour  standing  blind  sentinel  below, 
they  froze  him  with  the  look  of  lifeless  life  about 
the  grim,  gigantic  figures.  He  was  thankful  to 
see  one  of  the  great  double  doors  standing  open 

77 


78  MY  LORD  DUKE 

to  the  sun  ;  it  let  him  out  into  a  portico  loftier 
than  the  hall;  and  folding  his  arms  across  a 
stone  balustrade,  the  whilom  bushman  looked 
forth  between  Corinthian  columns  like  the  masts 
of  a  ship,  and  was  monarch  of  all  he  beheld. 

A  broad  and  stately  terrace  ran  right  and  left 
below;  beyond  and  below  this,  acres  of  the 
smoothest,  greenest  sward  were  relieved  by  a 
few  fine  elms,  with  the  deer  still  in  clusters 
about  their  trunks.  The  lawn  sloped  quietly  to 
the  verdant  shores  of  a  noble  lake ;  sun  and  dew 
had  dusted  the  grass  with  silver ;  sun  and  wind 
were  rippling  the  lake  with  flakes  of  flame  like 
leaping  gold-fish ;  and  across  the  water,  on  the 
rising  ground,  a  plantation  of  young  pines  ran 
their  points  into  the  radiant  sky.  These  trees 
appealed  to  the  Duke  more  than  anything  he 
had  seen  yet.  His  last  bush  hut  had  been  built 
among  pines ;  and  such  is  the  sentimental  at- 
traction of  the  human  heart  towards  a  former 
condition  —  better  or  worse,  if  it  be  but  be- 
yond recall  —  that  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's 
had  to  inspect  that  j)lantation  before  anything 
else.  Leaving  the  Towers  behind  him,  unno- 
ticed and  indeed  forgotten,  he  crossed  the  lawn, 
skirted  the  lake,  and  plunged  amid  the  pine- 
trees  as  his  impulse  spurred  him.  But  on  his 
way  back,  a  little  later,  the  mellow  grandeur  of 


A    NEW  LEAF  79 

that  ancient  pile  broke  in  upon  him  at  last,  and 
he  stood  astounded  in  the  wet  grass,  the  blood 
of  possession  running  hot  in  his  veins. 

The  historic  building  stretched  on  this  side 
for  something  like  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  end 
to  end.  Here  the  blue  sky  sank  deep  between 
turret  and  spire,  and  there  it  picked  out  a  line 
of  crumbling  battlements,  or  backed  the  upper 
branches  of  an  elm  that  (from  this  point)  cut 
the  expanse  of  stone  in  two.  It  had  grown  out 
of  many  attempts  in  as  many  ages  ;  thus,  besides 
architectural  discrepancies  for  the  eyes  of  the 
few,  the  shading  of  the  walls  was  as  finely 
graduated  as  that  of  an  aging  beard,  but  the 
prevailing  tint  was  a  pearly  gray,  now  washed 
with  purple,  and  exquisitely  softened  by  the 
tender  haze  still  lingering  in  the  dewy  air.  And 
from  every  window  that  Jack  could  see,  flashed 
a  morning  sun ;  for  as  he  stood  and  looked,  his 
shadow  lay  in  front  of  him  along  the  milky 
grass. 

To  one  extremity  of  the  building  clung  an 
enormous  conservator3%  likewise  ablaze  from 
dome  to  masonry ;  at  the  other,  the  dark  hues 
of  a  shrubbery  rested  the  eye ;  but  that  of  the 
Duke  was  used  to  the  sunlit  desert,  and  not 
readily  dazzled.  His  quick  glance  went  like  a 
bullet  through  the  trees  to  a  red  gable  and  the 


80  MY  LORD  DUKE 

gilt  hands  of  a  clock  just  visible  beyond.  On 
the  instant  he  recovered  from  his  enchantment, 
and  set  off  for  the  shrubbery  at  a  brisk  walk ; 
for  he  had  heard  much  of  the  Maske  stables, 
and  evidently  there  they  were. 

As  he  was  in  the  shrubbery,  the  stable  clock 
struck  eight  after  a  melodious  chime  sadly  spoilt 
by  the  incessant  barking  of  some  small  dog ; 
the  last  stroke  reverberated  as  he  emerged,  and 
the  dog  had  the  morning  air  to  itself,  to  murder 
with  its  hideous  clamour.  But  the  Duke  now 
saw  the  exciting  cause,  and  it  excited  him;  for 
he  had  come  out  oj^posite  the  stable-yard  gates, 
which  were  shut,  but  from  the  top  of  which, 
with  its  lame  paw  lifted,  a  vertical  tail,  and  a 
back  like  a  hedgehog  asleep,  his  own  yellow  cat 
spat  defiance  at  an  unseen  foe.  And  between 
the  barks  came  the  voice  of  a  man  inciting  the 
dog  with  a  filthy  relish. 

"  Set  him  oif.  Pickle  !  Now's  your  time.  Try 
again.  Oh,  blow  me,  if  you  can't  you  can't, 
and  I'll  have  to  lend  you  a  hand." 

And  one  showed  over  the  gate  with  the  word, 
but  the  fingers  grabbed  the  air,  for  Jack  had 
snatched  his  pet  in  the  nick  of  time.  He  was 
now  busy  with  the  ring  of  the  latch,  fumbling 
it  in  his  fury.  The  breath  came  in  gusts 
through  his  set  teeth  and  bristling  beard.     One 


A   NEW  LEAF  81 

hand  clasped  the  yellow  cat  in  a  fierce  caress ; 
the  other  knotted  into  a  fist  as  the  gate  flew 
open. 

In  the  yard  a  hulking,  smooth-faced  fellow, 
whose  pendulous  under-lip  had  dropped  in  dis- 
may, changed  his  stare  for  a  grin  when  he  saw 
the  Duke,  who  was  the  smaller  as  well  as  the 
rougher-looking  man  of  the  two  ;  for  he  had  not 
only  come  out  without  his  collar,  which  he  dis- 
carded whenever  he  could ;  but  he  had  clapped 
on  the  old  bush  wideawake  because  Claude  was 
not  up  to  stop  him. 

"Well,  and  who  are  you?"  began  the  other 
cheerfully. 

"  You  take  off  your  coat  and  I'll  show  you," 
replied  Jack,  with  a  blood-thirsty  indistinctness. 
"  I'm  a  better  man  than  you  are,  whoever  I  am ; 
at  least  we'll  have  a  see  !  " 

"  Oh,  will  we  ?"  said  the  fellow.  "  And  you're 
the  better  man,  are  you  ?  What  do  you  think  ?  " 
he  added,  turning  to  a  stable-boy  who  stood 
handy  with  thin  brown  arms  akimbo,  and 
thumbs   in   his    belt. 

"I  wonder  'oo  'e  thinks  'e  is  w'en  'e's  at  'ome?  " 
said  the  lad. 

Jack  never  heard  him.  He  had  spied  the 
saddle-room  door  standing  open.  In  an  instant 
he  was  there,  with  the  small  dog  yelping  at  his 
o 


82  MY  LORD  DUKE 

heels ;  in  another,  he  had  locked  the  door  be- 
tween cat  and  dog,  pocketed  the  key,  and  re- 
turned to  his  man,  stripping  off  his  own  coat 
and  waistcoat  as  he  came.  He  flung  them  into 
a  corner,  and  after  them  his  bush  hat. 

"  Now  let's  see  you  take  off  yours !  If  you 
don't,"  added  Jack,  with  a  big  bush  oath,  "  I'll 
have  to  hide  you  with  it  on  !  " 

But  man  and  boy  had  been  consulting  while 
his  back  was  turned,  and  Jack  now  found  him- 
self between  the  two  of  them ;  not  that  he  gave 
the  lad  a  thought. 

"  Look  you  here  ;  I'll  tell  you  who  /am,"  said 
the  man.  "  My  name's  Matt  Hunt,  and  Matt 
can  fight,  as  you  wouldn't  need  telling  if  you 
belonged  to  these  parts.  But  he  don't  take  on 
stray  tramps  like  you ;  so,  unless  you  hook  it 
slippy,  we're  just  going  to  run  you  out  o'  this 
yard  quicker  than  you  come  in." 

"  Not  till  I've  shown  you  how  to  treat  dumb 
animals " 

"  Then  here  goes  !  " 

And  with  that  the  man  Hunt  seized  one  of 
Jack's  arms,  while  the  stable-boy  nipped  the 
other  from  behind,  and  made  a  dive  at  Jack's 
pocket  for  the  saddle-room  key.  But  a  flat- 
footed  kick  sent  the  lad  sprawling  without  harm- 
ing him  ;  and  the  man  was  driven  so  hard  under 


A   NEW  LEAF  83 

the  nose  that  he  too  fell  back,  bearded  with 
blood. 

"  Come  on  !  "  roared  Jack.  "  And  you,  my 
boy,  keep  out  of  the  light  unless  you  want  a 
whipping  yourself ! " 

He  was  rolling  up  the  sleeves  from  his  tanned 
and  furry  arms.  Hunt  followed  suit,  a  cascade 
of  curses  flowing  with  his  blood;  he  had  torn 
off  his  coat,  and  a  wrist-button  tinkled  on  the 
cement  as  he  caught  up  Jack  in  his  prepara- 
tions. His  arras  were  thicker  than  the  bush- 
man's,  though  white  and  fleshy.  Hunt  was  also 
the  heavier  weight,  besides  standing  fully  six 
feet,  as  against  the  Duke's  five-feet-nine  when 
he  held  himself  up.  Nor  was  there  any  lack  of 
confidence  in  the  dripping,  hairless,  sinister  face, 
when  the  two  men  finally  squared  up. 

They  fell  to  work  without  niggling,  for  Jack 
rushed  in  like  a  bull,  leading  most  violently  with 
his  left.  It  was  an  inartistic  start ;  the  big  man 
was  not  touched ;  but  neither  did  he  touch  Jack, 
who  displayed,  at  all  events,  a  quick  pair  of  legs. 
Yet  it  was  this  start  that  steadied  the  Duke.  It 
showed  him  that  Hunt  was  by  no  means  un- 
skilled in  the  use  of  his  hands  ;  and  it  put  out  of 
his  head  everything  but  the  fight  itself,  so  that 
he  heard  no  more  the  small  tike  barking  outside 
the  saddle-room  door,  hitherto  his  angriest  goad. 


84  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Some  cool  sparring  ensued.  Then  Hunt  let  out 
from  the  shoulder,  but  the  blow  was  avoided 
with  great  agility  ;  then  Jack  led  off  again,  but 
with  a  lighter  touch,  and  this  time  he  drew 
his  man.  The  blows  of  the  next  minute  it 
was  impossible  to  follow.  They  were  given  and 
returned  with  enormous  virulence.  And  there 
was  no  end  to  them  until  the  big  man  tripped 
and  fell. 

"See  here,"  said  Jack,  standing  over  him; 
"that  was  my  cat,  and  I'd  got  to  go  for  you. 
But  if  you've  had  enough  of  this  game,  so  have 
I,  and  we'll  cry  quits." 

He  was  sucking  a  cut  lip  as  he  spoke.  The 
other  spat  out  a  tooth  and  blundered  to  his  feet. 

"  Quits,  you  scum  ?     Wait  a  bit !  " 

And  they  were  at  hotter  work  than  ever. 

Meanwhile  the  yard  was  filling  with  stable- 
men and  gardeners,  who  were  in  time  to  see 
Hunt  striding  down  on  his  unknown  adversary, 
and  the  latter  retreating  in  good  order ;  but  the 
stride  quickened,  ending  in  a  rush,  which  the 
Duke  eluded  so  successfully  that  he  was  able  to 
hit  Hunt  hard  on  the  ear  as  he  passed. 

It  was  afterwards  a  relief  to  the  spectators  to 
remember  how  they  had  applauded  this  effort. 
To  the  Duke  their  sympathy  was  a  comfort  at 
the  time  ;  though  he  no  more  suspected  that  his 


A   NEW  LEAF  85 

adversary  was  also  his  most  unpopular  tenant, 
than  the  latter  dreamt  of  his  being  the  Duke. 

Hunt  let  out  a  bellow  of  pain,  staggered,  and 
resumed  his  infuriate  rush ;  but  his  punishment 
was  now  heavier  than  before.  He  had  lost  both 
wind  and  head,  and  he  was  losing  pluck.  One 
of  his  eyes  was  already  retiring  behind  folds  of 
livid  flesh ;  and  a  final  blow  under  the  nose, 
where  the  first  of  all  had  been  delivered,  knocked 
him  howling  into  the  arms  of  a  new-comer,  who 
disengaged  himself  as  Hunt  fell. 

"  What,  Claude,  is  that  you?"  cried  the  Duke  ; 
and  a  flood  of  new  sensations  so  changed  his 
voice,  that  Hunt  looked  up  from  where  he  lay,  a 
beaten,  bleeding,  blubbering  mass.  But  in  the 
silent  revelation  of  that  moment  there  was  at 
first  no  sound  save  the  barking  of  the  fox-terrier 
outside  the  saddle-room  door.  This  had  never 
ceased.  Then  the  coachman's  pipe  fell  from  his 
mouth  and  was  smashed. 

"My  God!"  said  he.  "It's  his  Grace  him- 
self!" 

He  had  driven  the  Duke  from  Devenholme 
the  night  before. 

"The  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's!"  exclaimed 
Hunt  from  the  ground.  He  had  been  shedding 
blood  and  tears  indifferently,  and  now  he  sat  up 
with  a  slimy  stare  in  his  uninjured  eye. 


86  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  Yes,  that's  right,"  said  Jack,  with  a  nod  to 
the  company.  "  So  now  you  all  know  what  to 
expect  for  cruelty  to  cats,  or  any  other  dumb 
animals;  and  don't  you  forget  it !  " 

He  put  on  his  coat  and  went  over  to  the  sad- 
dle-room. Claude  followed  him,  still  at  a  loss 
for  words.  And  Hunt's  dog  went  into  a  wild 
ecstasy  as  the  key  was  put  into  the  lock. 

"  Hold  him,"  said  Jack.  "  The  dog's  all  right; 
and  I  lay  his  master  '11  think  twice  before  he  sets 
him  on  another  cat  o'  mine." 

"Come  away,"  said  Claude  hoarsely;  "for 
all  our  sakes,  come  away  before  you  make  bad 
worse ! " 

"  Well,  I  will.  Only  hold  him  tight.  That's 
it.  Poor  little  puss,  then  —  poor  old  Living- 
stone !     Now  I'm  ready  ;  come  along." 

But  Hunt  was  in  their  path;  and  Jack's 
heart  smote  him  for  the  mischief  he  had  done, 
though  his  own  lower  lip  was  swollen  like  a 
sausage. 

"So  you're  the  new  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's," 
said  Hunt,  with  a  singular  deliberation.  "I 
wasn't  to  know  that,  of  course  ;  no,  by  gosh, 
not  likely ! " 

"  Well,  you  know  it  now,"  was  the  reply. 
"And — and  I'm  sorry  I  had  to  hit  you  so  hard, 
Hunt ! " 


A   NEW  LEAF  87 

"  Oh,  don't  apologise,"  said  Hunt,  with  a 
sneer  that  showed  a  front  tooth  missing.  "  Stop 
a  bit,  though ;  I'm  not  so  sure,"  he  added,  with 
a  glance  of  evil  insight. 

"Sure  of  what?" 

"  Whether  you  oughtn't  to  apologise  for  not 
hitting  a  man  of  your  own  age !  " 

"Take  no  notice  of  him,"  whispered  Claude 
strenuously  ;  but  he  obtained  none  himself. 

"Nonsense,"  said  the  Duke;  "you're  the 
3'-ouuger  man,  at  all  events." 

"  Am  I  ?  I  was  born  in  '59,  I  was." 

"  Then  according  to  all  accounts  you're  the 
younger  man  by  four  years." 

"By  —  four  —  years,"  repeated  Hunt  slowly, 
"  So  you  was  born  in  '55  !  Thank  you ;  I  shall 
make  a  note  of  that,  you  may  be  sure  —  youi* 
Grace ! " 

And  Hunt  was  gone  ;  they  heard  him  whis- 
tlings for  his  tike  when  he  was  himself  out  of 
sight,  and  the  dog  went  at  last.  Then  the 
coachman  stepped  forward,  cap  in  hand. 

"  If  you  please,  your  Grace,  that  man  was  here 
without  my  knowledge.  He's  always  putting 
in  his  nose  where  he  isn't  wanted;  I've  shifted 
him  out  of  this  before  to-day  r  and  with  your 
Grace's  permission,  I'll  give  orders  not  to  have 
him  admitted  again." 


88  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  said  Jack.  "  A  tenant  or 
what?" 

"  Only  a  tenant,  your  Grace.  Matt  Hunt,  they 
call  him,  of  the  Lower  Farm  ;  but  it  might  be  of 
Maske  Towers,  by  the  way  he  goes  on ! " 

"  He  took  a  mighty  interest  in  my  age,"  re- 
marked the  Duke.  ''■  I  never  asked  to  look  at 
his  fangs  —  but  I  think  you'll  find  one  of  them 
somewhere  about  the  yard.  No ;  I'm  not  fond 
of  fighting,  my  lads.  Don't  you  run  away  with 
that  idea.  But  there's  one  thing  I  can't  and 
won't  suffer,  and  that's  cruelty  to  animals.  You 
chaps  in  the  stables  recollect  that !  And  so 
good-morning  to  you  all." 

Claude  led  the  way  through  the  shrubbery  in 
a  deep  depression.  The  guilty  Duke  took  his  arm 
with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  hugged 
the  yellow  cat  that  was  eying  the  shrubbery 
birds  over  its  master's  shoulder,  much  as  the 
terrier  had  eyed  it. 

"  My  dear  old  boy,"  said  Jack,  "  I'm  as  sorry 
as  sorry  for  what's  happened.  But  I  couldn't 
help  myself.  Look  at  Livingstone;  he'd  have 
been  a  stiff  'un  by  this  time  if  I  hadn't  turned 
up  when  I  did;  so  naturally  there  was  a  row. 
Still  I'm  sorry.  I  know  it's  a  bad  beginning; 
and  I  remember  saying  in  the  train  that  I'd  turn 
over  a  new  leaf  down  here.     Well,  and  so  I  will 


A    NEW  LEAF  89 

if  you  give  me  time.  Don't  judge  me  by  this 
morning,  Claude.  Give  me  another  chance; 
and  for  God's  sake  don't  look  like  that ! " 

"I  can't  help  it,  Jack,"  replied  Claude,  with 
a  weary  candour.  "  I'm  prepared  for  anything 
now.  You  make  me  a  year  older  every  day. 
How  do  I  know  what  you'll  do  next  ?  I  think 
the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  give  you  up  as 
a  bad  job." 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  duke's    progress 

Claude's  somewhat  premature  despair  was 
not  justified  by  tlie  event;  nevertheless  it  did 
good.  Excusable  enough  at  the  time,  that  little 
human  outbreak  was  also  more  effective  than  the 
longest  lecture  or  the  most  mellifluous  reproof. 
Jack  liked  his  cousin.  The  liking  was  by  no 
means  unconnected  with  gratitude.  And  now 
Jack  saw  that  he  could  best  show  his  gratitude 
by  adopting  a  more  suitable  course  of  conduct 
than  he  could  claim  to  have  pursued  hitherto. 
He  determined  to  make  an  effort.  He  had 
everything  to  learn;  it  was  a  mountainous 
task  that  lay  before  him ;  but  he  faced  it  with 
spirit,  and  made  considerable  progress  in  a  little 
space. 

He  learnt  how  to  treat  the  servants.  The 
footmen  had  misbehaved  when  he  addressed 
them  as  "my  boy"  and  "old  toucher"  from 
his  place  at  table.  He  consulted  Claude,  and 
dropped  these  familiarities  as  well  as  the  pain- 

90 


THE  DUKE'S  PROGRESS  91 

fully  respectful  tone  which  he  had  at  first 
employed  towards  old  Stebbings,  the  butler. 
Stebbings  had  been  very  many  years  in  the 
family.  The  deference  inspired  by  his  vener- 
able presence  was  natural  enough  in  the  new 
Duke  of  St.  Osmund's ;  but  it  shocked  and  dis- 
tressed Stebbings's  feudal  soul.  He  complained 
to  Claude,  and  he  had  not  to  complain  twice. 
For  Jack  discovered  a  special  and  a  touching 
eagerness  to  master  the  rudiments  of  etiquette ; 
though  in  other  respects  (which  certainly  mat- 
tered less)  he  was  still  incorrigible. 

His  social  "  crammer "  could  no  more  cure 
him  of  his  hatred  of  a  collar  than  of  his  liking 
for  his  cats.  The  latter  were  always  with  him ; 
the  former,  unhappily,  was  not.  In  these  things 
the  Duke  was  hopelessly  unregenerate ;  he  was 
a  stockman  still  at  heart,  and  a  stockman  he 
threatened  to  remain.  The  soft  summer  nights 
were  nothing  to  the  nights  in  the  bush;  the 
fleecy  English  sky  was  not  blue  at  all  after  the 
skies  of  Riverina;  and  the  Duke's  ideal  of  a 
man  was  "  my  old  boss."  Claude  heard  of  "  my 
old  boss  "  until  he  was  sick  of  the  words,  which 
constituted  a  gratuitous  reminder  of  a  position 
most  men  would  have  been  glad  to  forget.  Yet 
there  was  much  to  be  thankful  for.  There  were 
no  more  scenes  such  as  the  Duke's  set-to  in 


92  MY  LORD  DUKE 

his  own  stable-yard  with  one  of  his  own  tenants. 
At  least  nothing  of  the  sort  happened  again 
until  Jack's  next  collision  with  Matthew  Hunt. 
And  that  was  not  yet. 

Matthew  was  from  home  when  the  Duke, 
making  a  round  of  the  estate,  with  his  agent, 
visited  the  Lower  Farm  in  its  turn.  Old  Hunt, 
Matthew's  besotted  father,  received  them  in  the 
kitchen  with  a  bloodshot  stare  and  little  else, 
for  drink  had  long  dimmed  his  forces.  Not  so 
the  old  man's  daughter-in-law,  Matthew's  wife, 
who  showed  the  visitors  all  over  the  farm  in  a 
noiseless  manner  that  made  Jack  feel  uneasy, 
because  he  never  knew  when  she  was  or  was  not 
at  his  elbow.  Besides,  he  could  not  forget  the 
thrashing  he  had  given  her  husband,  nor  yet 
suppose  that  she  had  forgotten  it  either.  The 
woman  was  of  a  gross  type  strangely  accentu- 
ated by  her  feline  quietude.  She  had  a  continual 
smile,  and  sly  eyes  that  dropped  when  they  en- 
countered those  of  the  Duke,  whom  they  fol- 
lowed sedulously  at  all  other  moments.  Jack 
seemed  to  know  it,  too;  at  all  events  he  was 
not  sorry  to  turn  his  back  upon  the  Lower 
Farm. 

"  A  rum  lot,  the  Hunts !  "  he  said  at  lunch. 
"  They're  about  the  only  folks  here  that  I 
haven't  cottoned  to  on  the  spot.     I  shall  get 


THE  DUKE'S  PROGRESS  93 

on  fine  with  all  the  others.  But  I  can't  suffer 
those  Hunts ! " 

"There's  no  reason  why  you  should  suffer 
them,"  observed  the  agent,  in  his  well-bred 
drawl;  for  he  had  a  more  aristocratic  manner 
than  Claude  himself.  "  They  have  the  best 
farm  on  the  property,  and  they  pay  the  smallest 
rent.  You  should  think  over  my  suggestion  of 
this  morning." 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  Duke.  "  He  wants  me  to 
double  the  rent,  Claude,  and  clear  them  out  if 
they  won't  pay.     I  can't  do  it." 

"  Well,  no  ;  I  hardly  think  you  can,"  assented 
Claude.  "  Oddly  enough,  my  grandfather  had 
quite  a  weakness  for  the  Hunts ;  and  then  they 
are  very  old  tenants.  That  hoary-headed  Silenus, 
whom  you  saw,  was  once  in  the  stables  here  ;  so 
was  his  son  after  him,  in  my  time ;  and  the  old 
man's  sister  was  my  grandmother's  maid.  You 
can't  turn  out  people  like  that  ex  itinere,  so  to 
speak  —  I  mean  to  say  in  a  hurry.  It's  too  old 
a  connection  altogether." 

"Exactly  what  they  trade  upon,"  said  the 
agent.  "  They  have  been  spoilt  for  years,  and 
they  expect  his  Grace  to  go  on  spoiling  them. 
I  should  certainly  get  rid  of  the  whole  gang." 

"No,  mister  —  no!"  declared  the  Duke. 
"Claude  is   right.     I  can't  do  it.      I  might  if 


94  MY  LORD  DUKE 

I  hadn't  given  that  fellow  a  hiding.     After  that 
I  simply  can't ;  it  would  look  too  bad." 

The  agent  said  no  more,  but  his  look  and  shrug 
were  perhaps  neither  politic  nor  polite.  A  strap- 
ping sportsman  himself,  and  a  person  of  some 
polish  into  the  bargain,  he  was  in  a  position,  as 
it  were,  to  look  down  on  Claude  with  one  eye, 
and  on  the  Duke  with  the  other.  And  he  did 
so  with  a  freedom  extraordinary  in  one  of  his 
wisdom  and  undcrstandinsf. 

"  One  of  these  days,"  said  Jack,  "  I  shall  give 
that  joker  his  cheque.  He's  not  my  notion  of 
an  overseer  at  all ;  if  he's  too  good  for  the  billet 
let  him  roll  up  his  swag  and  clear  out;  if  he 
isn't,  let  him  treat  the  bosses  as  a  blooming 
overseer  should." 

"  Why,  what's  the  head  and  chief  of  his  offend- 
ing now  ?  "  asked  Claude  ;  for  this  was  one  night 
in  the  billiard-room,  when  the  agent  had  been 
making  an  example  of  both  cousins  at  pyramids; 
it  was  after  he  was  gone,  and  while  the  Duke  was 
still  tearing  off  liis  collar. 

"What  has  he  said  to-night?"  continued 
the  poet,  less  poetically.  "I  heard  nothing 
offensive." 

"  You  wouldn't,"  said  the  Duke ;  "  you're 
such  a  good  sort  yourself.  You'd  never  see 
when  a  chap  was  pulling  your  leg,  but  I  see 


THE   DUKE'S  PROGRESS  95 

fast  enough,  and  I  won't  have  it.  What  did  he 
say  to-night  ?  He  talked  through  his  neck  when 
we  missed  our  shots.  That  about  billiards  in 
the  bush  I  didn't  mind ;  rae  and  the  bush,  we're 
fair  game ;  but  when  he  got  on  to  your  poetry, 
old  man,  I  felt  inclined  to  run  my  cue  through 
his  gizzard.  '  A  poet's  shot,'  he  says,  when  you 
put  yourself  down;  and  'you  should  write  a 
sonnet  about  that,'  when  you  got  them  three 
balls  in  together.  I  don't  say  it  wasn't  a  fluke. 
That  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it.  The 
way  the  fellow  spoke  is  what  I  weaken  on.  He 
wouldn't  have  done  for  my  old  boss,  and  I'm 
blowed  if  he'll  do  for  me.  One  of  these  days  I 
shall  tell  him  to  come  outside  and  take  his  coat 
off ;  and,  by  the  looks  of  him,  I  shouldn't  be  a 
bit  surprised  to  see  him  put  me  through." 

Claude's  anxiety  overcame  ever}^  other  feeling. 
He  implored  the  Duke  not  to  make  another  scene, 
least  of  all  with  such  a  man  as  the  agent,  whose 
chaff,  he  truly  protested,  did  not  offend  him 
in  the  least.  Jack  shook  his  head,  and  was 
next  accused  of  being  more  sensitive  about  the 
"wretched  poems"  than  was  the  poet  himself. 
This  could  not  have  been.  But  Claude  was  not 
so  very  far  wrong. 

His  slender  book  was  being  widely  reviewed, 
or  rather  "  noticed,"  for  the  two  things  are  not 


96  MY  LORD  DUKE 

quite  the  same.  The  "  notices,"  on  the  whole, 
were  good  and  kind,  but  "  uninstructed,"  so 
Claude  said  with  a  sigh ;  nevertheless,  he  ap- 
peared to  obtain  a  sneaking  satisfaction  from 
their  perusal ;  and  as  for  Jack,  he  would  read 
them  aloud,  capering  round  the  room  and  shak- 
ing Claude  by  both  hands  in  his  delighted 
enthusiasm.  To  him  every  printed  compliment 
was  a  loud  note  blown  from  the  trumpet  of  fame 
into  the  ears  of  all  the  world.  He  would  hear 
not  a  word  against  the  paper  in  which  it  ap- 
peared, but  attributed  every  qualifying  remark 
of  Claude's  to  the  hitter's  modesty,  and  each 
favourable  paragraph  to  some  great  responsible 
critic  voicing  the  feeling  of  the  country  in  the 
matter  of  these  poems.  Claude  himself,  how- 
ever, though  frequently  gratified,  was  not 
deceived;  for  the  sweetest  nothings  came  in- 
variably from  the  provincial  press ;  and  he  at 
least  knew  too  much  to  mistake  a  "  notice  "  for 
a  "  real  review." 

The  real  reviews  were  a  sadly  different  matter. 
There  were  very  few  of  them,  in  the  first  place; 
their  scarcity  was  worse  than  their  severity. 
And  they  were  generally  very  severe  indeed; 
or  they  did  not  take  the  book  seriously,  which, 
as  Claude  said,  was  the  unkindest  cut  of  all. 

"  Only  show  me  the  skunk  who  wrote  that," 


THE  DUKE'S  PROGRESS  97 

exclaimed  Jack  one  morning,  looking  over 
Claude's  shoulder  as  he  opened  his  press-cut- 
tings, "  and  I'll  give  him  the  biggest  hiding 
ever  he  had  in  his  life ! " 

Another  critic,  the  writer  of  a  really  sympa- 
thetic and  exiiaustive  review,  the  Duke  desired 
to  invite  to  Maske  Towers  by  the  next  post, 
"  because,"  said  Jack,  "  he  must  be  a  real  good 
sort,  and  we  ought  to  know  him." 

"  I  do  know  him,"  said  Claude,  with  a  groan, 
for  he  had  thought  of  keeping  the  fact  to  him- 
self; "I  know  him  to  my  cost.  He  owes  me 
money.  This  is  payment  on  account.  Oh,  I 
am  no  good !  I  must  give  it  up !  Ignorance 
and  interest  alone  are  at  my  back !  Genuine 
enthusiasm  there  is  none !  " 

There  was  Jack's.  But  was  that  genuine? 
The  Duke  himself  was  not  sure.  He  meant  it 
to  ring  true,  but  then  he  meant  to  appreciate 
the  poems,  and  of  many  of  them  he  could  make 
little  enough  in  his  secret  soul. 

All  this,  however,  was  but  one  side  of  the 
quiet  life  led  by  the  cousins  at  Maske  Towers; 
and  it  had  but  one  important  effect  —  that  of 
sowing  in  Claude's  heart  a  loyalty  to  Jack  not 
unworthy  of  Jack's  loyalty  to  him. 

There  were  other  subjects  of  discussion  upon 
which  the  pair  were  by  no  means  at  one.     There 


98  MY  LORD   DUKE 

was  Jack's  open  failure  to  appreciate  the  mar- 
ble halls,  the  resonant  galleries,  the  darkling 
pictures  of  his  princely  home ;  and  there  was 
the  scatter-brained  scheme  by  which  he  ulti- 
mately sought  to  counteract  the  oppressive 
grandeur  of  his  new  surroundings. 

It  was  extremely  irritating,  especially  to  a 
man  like  Claude ;  but  the  proudest  possessions 
of  their  ancestors  (whose  superlative  taste  and 
inferior  morals  had  been  the  byword  of  so  many 
ages)  were  those  which  appealed  least  to  that 
blameless  Goth,  the  ninth  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's. 
The  most  glaring  case  in  point  was  that  of  the 
pictures,  which  alone  would  make  the  world- 
wide fame  of  a  less  essentially  noble  seat  than 
Maske  Towers.  But  Titian,  Rembrandt,  Rubens, 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  Angeletti 
Vernet,  and  Claude  Lorrain — all  these  were  mere 
names,  and  new  ones,  to  Happy  Jack.  Claude 
Lafont,  pointing  to  magnificent  examples  of  the 
work  of  one  Old  Master  after  another,  made  his 
observations  with  bated  breath,  as  well  he  might, 
for  where  is  there  such  another  private  collec- 
tion ?  Jack,  however,  was  not  impressed ;  he 
was  merely  amazed  at  Claude,  and  his  remarks 
in  the  picture-gallery  are  entirely  unworthy  of 
reproduction.  In  the  State  Apartments  he  M'as 
still    more   trying.     He   spoke   of    having    the 


THE  DUKE'S  PROGRESS  99 

ancient  tapestries  (after  Raphael's  Cartoons) 
taken  out  and  "  well  shaken,"  which,  as  Claude 
said,  would  have  reduced  them  to  immediate 
atoms.  And  he  threatened  to  have  the  painted 
ceilings  whitewashed  without  delay. 

"Aurora  Banishing  Night,  eh?"  he  cried,  with 
horizontal  beard  and  upturned  eyes.  "  She'd 
jolly  soon  banish  my  night,  certainly;  it  should 
be,  banishing  sleep !  And  all  those  naked  little 
nippers !  They  ought  to  be  papered  over,  for 
decency's  sake ;  and  that  brute  of  a  bed,  who 
would  sleep  in  it,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  Not 
me.  Not  much  !  It  must  be  twenty-foot  high 
and  ten-foot  wide ;  it  gives  me  the  hump  to  look 
at  it,  and  the  ceilings  give  it  me  worse.  See 
here,  Claude,  we'll  lock  up  these  State  Apart- 
ments, as  you  call  them,  and  you  shall  keep 
the  key.  I'm  full  of  'em ;  they'll  give  me  bad 
dreams  as  it  is." 

They  were  not,  however,  the  only  apartments 
of  which  the  Duke  disapproved;  the  suite  which 
had  been  done  up  entirely  for  his  own  use, 
under  Claude's  direction,  did  not  long  commend 
itself  to  the  ex-stockman.  Everything  was  far 
too  good  for  him  and  his  cats ;  they  were  not 
accustomed  to  such  splendour ;  it  made  them 
all  four  uncomfortable  —  so  Jack  declared  after 
taking  Claude's  breath  away  with  the  eccentric 


100  ^^^  LORD  DUKE 

plan  on  which  he  had  set  his  heart.  And  for 
the  remainder  of  their  solitary  companionship 
each  man  had  his  own  occui^ation;  the  Duke 
preparing  more  congenial  quarters  for  himself 
and  the  cats ;  and  Claude,  with  Jack's  permis- 
sion and  the  agent's  skilled  advice,  superintend- 
ing the  making  of  private  golf-links  for  Mr, 
Sellwood's  peculiar  behoof.  For  the  Home  Sec- 
retary had  promised  to  join  the  Maske  party,  for 
the  week-ends  at  any  rate,  until  (as  he  expressed 
it)  the  Government  ^  holed  out." 

That  party  was  now  finally  arranged.  The 
Frekes  were  coming  with  the  Sellwoods,  and 
the  latter  family  were  to  have  the  luxurious 
suite  which  the  Duke  himself  disdained.  This 
was  his  Grace's  own  idea.  Moreover,  he  inter- 
ested himself  personally  in  the  right  ordering 
of  the  rooms  during  the  last  few  days;  but 
this  he  kept  to  himself  until  the  eleventh  hour;,.^, 
in  fact,  until  he  was  waiting  for  the  drag  to 
come  round,  which  he  was  himself  going  to  tool 
over  to  Deveuholme  to  meet  his  guests.  It  was 
then  that  certain  unexpected  misgivings  led 
Jack  to  seek  out  his  cousin,  in  order  to  take 
him  to  see  what  he  had  done. 

For  Claude  had  shown  him  what  he  was  doing. 
He  was  producing  a  set  of  exceedingly  harmless 
verses,  "To  Olivia  released  from  Mayfair,"  of 


THE   DUKE'S  PROGRESS  101 

which  the  Duke  had  already  heard  the  rough 
draft.  The  fair  copy  was  in  the  making  even 
now;  in  the  comparatively  small  room,  at  one 
end  of  the  library,  that  Jack  had  already  christ- 
ened the  Poet's  Corner. 

Claude  wiped  his  pen  with  characteristic  care, 
and  then  rose  readily  enough.  He  followed  Jack 
down  the  immensely  long,  galleried,  book-lined 
library,  through  a  cross-fire  of  coloured  liglits 
from  the  stained-glass  windoAVS,  and  so  to  the 
stairs.  Overhead  there  was  another  long  walk, 
through  corridor  after  corridor,  which  had  always 
reminded  Jack  of  the  hotel  in  town.  But  at 
last,  in  the  newly  decorated  wing,  the  Duke  took 
a  key  from  his  pocket  and  put  it  in  a  certain 
door.  And  now  it  was  Claude  who  was  reminded 
of  the  hotel ;  for  a  most  striking  atmospheric 
change  greeted  him  on  the  threshold;  only  this 
time  it  was  not  a  gust  of  heat,  but  the  united 
perfume  of  many  flowers,  that  came  from  within. 

The  room  was  fairly  flooded  with  fresh  roses. 
It  was  as  though  they  had  either  blown  through 
the  open  window,  or  fallen  in  a  miraculous  shower 
from  the  dainty  blue  ceiling.  They  pranked  the 
floor  in  a  fine  disorder.  They  studded  the  table 
in  tiny  vases.  They  hid  the  mantelpiece,  em- 
bedded in  moss  :  from  the  very  grate  below,  they 
peeped  like  fairy  flames,  breathing  fragrance  in- 


102  MY  LORD  DUKE 

stead  of  warmth ;  and  some  in  falling  seemed  to 
have  caught  in  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  so  art- 
fully had  they  been  arranged.  Only  the  white 
narrow  bed  had  escaped  the  shower.  And  in 
the  midst  of  this,  his  handiwork,  stood  the  Duke, 
and  blushed  like  the  roses  themselves. 

"  Whose  room  is  this  ?  "  asked  Claude,  though 
he  knew  so  well. 

"  Olivia's  —  I  should  say  Miss  Sellwood's. 
You  see,  old  man,  you  were  writing  these  aw- 
fully clever  verses  for  her;  so  I  felt  I  should 
like  to  have  something  ready  too." 

"  Your  poem  is  the  best ! "  exclaimed  Claude, 
with  envious,  sparkling  eyes.   And  then  he  sighed. 

"  Oh,  rot!"  said  Jack,  who  was  only  too  thank- 
ful for  his  offering  to  receive  the  cachet  of 
Claude's  approval.  "  All  I  wanted  was  to  keep 
my  end  up,  too.  Look  here.  What  do  you 
think  of  this?" 

And  he  took  from  a  vase  on  the  dressing- 
table  an  enormous  white  bouquet,  that  opened 
Claude's  eyes  wider  than  before. 

"  This  is  for  her,  too ;  I  wanted  to  consult 
you  about  it,"  pursued  Jack.  "  Should  I  leave 
it  here  for  her,  or  should  I  take  it  down  to  the 
station  and  present  it  to  her  there  ?  Or  at  din- 
ner to-night?  I  want  to  know  just  what  you 
think." 


THE  DUKE'S  PROGRESS  103 

"  No,  not  at  dinner,"  replied  Claude ;  "  nor 
yet  at  the  station." 

"  Not  at  all,  you  mean !  I  see  it  in  your 
face ! "  cried  the  Duke  so  that  Claude  could 
not  answer  him.  "  But  why  not  ? "  he  added 
vehemently.  '•  Where  does  the  harm  come  in  ? 
It's  only  a  blooming  nosegay.  What's  wrong 
with  it?" 

"  Nothing,"  was  the  reply,  "  only  it  might 
embarrass  Olivia." 

"  Make  her  uncomfortable?" 

"  Well,  yes ;  it  would  be  rather  marked,  you 
know.  A  bouquet  like  that  is  only  fit  for  a 
bride." 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  said  Jack,  much  crestfallen ; 
"  still,  if  that's  so,  it's  just  as  well  to  know  it. 
There  was  no  harm  meant.  I  wasn't  thinking 
of  any  rot  of  that  kind.  However,  we  don't 
want  to  make  her  uncomfortable ;  that  wasn't 
the  idea  at  all ;  so  the  bouquet's  off  —  like  me. 
Come  and  let  me  tool  you  as  far  as  the  boundary 
fence.  I  want  to  show  you  how  we  drive  four 
horses  up  the  bush." 

The  exhibition  made  Claude  a  little  nervous ; 
there  was  too  much  shouting  at  the  horses  for 
his  taste,  and  too  much  cracking  of  the  whip. 
Jack  could  crack  a  whip  better  than  any  man 
in  his  own  stables.     But  he  accepted  Claude's 


104  MY  LORD  DUKE 

criticism  with  his  usual  docility,  and  dropped 
him  at  the  gates  with  his  unfailing  nod  of  pure 
good-humour. 

There  he  sat  on  the  box,  in  loose  rough 
tweeds  of  a  decent  cut,  and  with  the  early 
August  sun  striking  under  the  brim  of  a  per- 
fectly respectable  straw  hat,  but  adding  little 
to  the  broad  light  of  his  own  honest,  beam- 
ing countenance.  He  waved  his  whip,  and 
Claude  his  hand.  Then  the  whip  cracked  — 
but  only  once — and  the  poet  strolled  back  to 
his  verses,  steeped  in  thought.  He  had  done 
his  best.  His  soul  divined  vaguely  what  the 
result  might  mean  to  him.  But  his  actual 
thoughts  were  characteristically  permissible ; 
he  was  merely  wondering  what  Lady  Caroline 
and  Olivia  Sellwood  would  say  now. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE   OLD   ADAM 

Olivia  said  least.  Her  mother  took  Claude 
by  the  hand,  and  thanked  him  with  real  tears 
in  her  eyes,  for  after  all  she  was  an  Irishwoman, 
who  could  be  as  emotional  as  possible  when  she 
chose.  As  for  Mr.  Sellwood,  he  expressed  him- 
self as  delightfully  disappointed  in  the  peer  of 
whom  he  had  heard  so  much.  Jack  struck  him 
as  being  an  excellent  fellow,  although  not  a 
golfer,  which  was  a  pity,  and  even  apparently 
disinclined  to  take  up  the  game  —  which  might 
signify  some  recondite  flaw  in  his  character. 
So  said  the  Home  Secretary.  But  Olivia  merely 
asked  who  had  put  all  those  roses  in  her  room  ; 
and  when  Claude  told  her,  she  simpl}'-  nodded 
and  took  hardly  any  notice  of  the  Duke  that 
night.  Yet  she  wore  a  handful  of  his  flowers 
at  her  shapely  waist.  And  she  did  thank  him, 
in  a  way. 

It  was  not  the  sweetest  way  in  the  world,  as 
all  her  ways  had  been,  these   many  weeks,  in 

105 


106  ^^y  LORD  DUKE 

Jack's  imagination.  He  was  grieved  and  dis- 
appointed, but  still  more  was  he  ashamed.  He 
had  taken  a  liberty.  He  had  alienated  his 
friend.  Thus  he  blamed  himself,  with  bitter, 
wordless  thoughts,  and  would  then  fall  back 
upon  his  disappointment.  His  feelings  were  a 
little  mixed.  One  moment  she  was  not  all  that 
he  had  thought  her ;  the  next,  she  was  more 
than  all.  She  was  more  beautiful.  Often  he 
had  tried  to  recall  her  face,  and  tried  in  vain, 
having  seen  her  but  once  before,  and  then  only 
for  a  few  minutes.  Now  he  perceived  that  his 
first  impression,  blurred  and  yet  dear  to  him  as 
it  had  been,  had  done  but  meagre  justice  to 
Olivia.  He  had  forgotten  the  delicate  dark 
eyebrows,  so  much  darker  than  the  hair.  The 
girl's  radiant  colouring  had  also  escaped  him. 
It  was  like  the  first  faint  flush  of  an  Austra- 
lian dawn.  Yet  he  had  missed  it  in  June,  just 
as  he  had  missed  the  liquid  hazel  of  her  eyes; 
their  absolute  honesty  was  what  he  remem- 
bered best ;  and,  by  a  curious  irony,  that  frank, 
fine  look  was  the  very  one  which  she  denied  him 
now. 

And  so  it  was  from  the  Friday  evening,  when 
the  Sellwoods  arrived,  to  the  Monday  morning 
when  duty  recalled  the  Home  Secretary  to  St. 
Stephen's.     He  obeyed  the  call  in  no  statesman- 


THE    OLD   ADAM  107 

like  frame  of  mind.  He  had  spent  the  Sabbath 
in  open  sin  upon  the  new-made  links,  and  had 
been  fitly  punished  by  his  own  execrable  play. 
The  athletic  agent  had  made  an  example  of 
him ;  he  felt  that  he  might  just  as  well  have 
been  in  church  (or  rather  in  the  private  chapel 
attached  to  the  Towers),  reading  the  lessons  for 
his  son-in-law,  Francis  Freke ;  and  in  the  Satur- 
day's "  foursome,"  with  the  reverend  gentleman 
on  his  side,  the  Cabinet  Minister  had  done  little 
better.  So  he  had  departed  very  sorely  against 
the  grain,  his  white  hairs  bristling  with  discon- 
tent, a  broken  "  driver "  hidden  away  in  the 
depths  of  his  portmanteau.  And  Olivia,  see- 
ing the  last  of  him  from  amid  the  tall  columns 
of  the  portico,  felt  heavy-hearted,  because  her 
father  was  also  her  friend. 

Jack  watched  her  at  a  distance.  It  did  not 
occur  to  him  that  the  girl's  mother  was  already 
pitching  him  at  the  girl's  head,  daily  and  almost 
hourly,  until  she  was  weary  of  the  very  sound 
of  his  name.  And  though  he  felt  he  must  have 
overstepped  some  mark  in  the  matter  of  the 
flowers,  he  little  dreamt  how  Miss  Sell  wood's 
maid  had  looked  when  she  saw  them,  or  what 
disgraceful  satisfaction  Lady  Caroline  had  ex- 
hibited before  her  daugfhter  on  that  occasion. 
He  only  knew  that  her  Ladyship  was  treating 


108  ^^Y  LORD   DUKE 

hira  with  a  rather  oppressive  kindness,  and  that 
he  would  much  sooner  have  had  half-a-dozen 
words  from  Olivia,  such  as  the  first  she  had 
ever  spoken  to  him. 

And  now  the  girl  was  unhappy ;  it  was  plain 
enough,  even  to  his  untutored  eye ;  and  he 
stepped  forward  with  the  determination  of  im- 
proving her  spirits,  without  thinking  of  his  own, 
which  were  not  a  little  flat. 

"  You  must  find  it  dull  up  the  country,  Miss 
Sellwood,  after  London,"  began  Jack,  not  per- 
haps in  his  most  natural  manner.  "I  —  I  wish 
to  goodness  you'd  tell  us  of  anything  we  could 
do  to  amuse  you  !  " 

"You  are  very  good,"  replied  Olivia,  "but  I 
don't  require  to  be  amused  like  a  child.  Thanks 
all  the  same.  As  to  finding  the  country  dull, 
I  never  appreciate  it  so  much  as  after  a  season 
in  town." 

She  was  not  looking  at  the  Duke,  but  beyond 
him  into  the  hall.  And  encountering  no  other 
eyes  there,  her  own  grew  softer,  as  did  her  tone, 
even  as  she  spoke. 

"  You  know  this  old  place  off  by  heart.  Miss 
Sellwood,  I  expect?"  pursued  Jack,  who  had 
taken  off  his  straw  hat  in  her  presence,  being 
in  doubt  as  to  whether  the  portico  ranked  in- 
doors or  out. 


THE   OLD  ADAM  109 

"Oh,  well,  I  have  stayed  here  pretty  often, 
you  know,"  said  Olivia.  "  What  do  you  think 
of  the  place  ?  " 

"I  can't  hardly  say.  I've  never  seen  any- 
thing else  like  it.  It's  far  too  good,  though,  for 
a  chap  like  me ;  it's  all  so  grand." 

"  I  have  sometimes  felt  it  a  little  too  grand," 
the  girl  ventured  to  observe. 

"  So.  have  I !  "  cried  Jack.  "  You  can't  think 
how  glad  I  am  to  hear  3^ou  say  that.  It's  my 
own  feeling  right  down  to  the  ground !  " 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  rude,"  continued  Olivia 
confidentially,  seeing  that  they  were  still  unob- 
served, "  but  I  have  often  felt  that  I  wouldn't 
care  to  live  here  altogether." 

"  No  ?  "  said  the  Duke,  in  a  new  tone  ;  he  felt 
vaguely  dashed,  but  his  manner  was  rather  one 
of  apologetic  sympathy. 

"No,"  she  repeated;  "shall  you  like  it?" 

"  Can't  say.  I  haven't  weakened  on  it  yet, 
though  it  is  too  fine  and  large  for  a  fellow. 
Shall  I  tell  3^ou  what  I've  done?  I've  fixed  up 
a  little  place  for  myself  outside,  where  I  can  go 
whenever  I  get  full  up  of  the  homestead  here. 
I  wonder  —  if  it  isn't  too  much  to  ask  —  whether 
you  would  let  me  show  you  the  little  spot  I 
mean?" 

"Where  is  it?" 


110  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  In  the  pines  yonder,  on  the  far  side  o'  the 
tank." 

"  The  tank !  " 

"We  call  'em  tanks  in  Australia.  I  meant 
the  lake.  I  could  row  you  across,  Miss  Sell- 
wood,  in  a  minute,  if  only  you'd  let  me  !  "  And 
he  met  her  doubtful  look  with  one  of  frank, 
simple-hearted,  irresistible  entreaty. 

"  Come  on  !  "  said  Olivia  suddenly;  and  as  she 
went,  she  never  looked  behind ;  for  she  seemed 
to  feel  her  mother's  eyes  upon  her  from  an  upper 
window,  and  the  hot  shame  of  their  certain  ap- 
proval made  her  tingle  from  head  to  foot.  So 
she  trod  the  close,  fine,  sunlit  grass  as  far  as 
possible  from  her  companion's  side.  And  he, 
falling  back  a  little,  was  enabled  to  watch  her 
all  the  way. 

Olivia  was  very  ordinarily  attired.  She  wore 
a  crisp  white  blouse,  speckled  with  tiny  scarlet 
spots,  and  a  plain  skirt  of  navy  blue,  just  short 
enough  to  give  free  play  to  the  small  brown  shoes 
whose  high  heels  the  Duke  had  admired  in  the 
portico.  Two  scarlet  bands,  a  narrow  and  a 
broad,  encircled  her  straw  hat  and  her  waist, 
with  much  the  same  circumference  :  and  yet  this 
exceedingly  average  costume  struck  Jack  as  the 
most  delicious  thing  imaginable  of  its  kind.  He 
corrected  another  impression  before  they  reached 


THE   OLD  ADAM  HI 

the  lake.  Olivia  was  taller  than  he  had  thought ; 
she  was  at  least  five-feet-six ;  and  slie  carried  her 
slim,  trim  figure  in  a  fine  upstanding  fashion 
that  took  some  of  the  roundness  out  of  his  own 
shoulders  as  he  noted  it  this  August  morning. 

"  It's  the  back-block  bend,"  he  remarked  ellip- 
tically,  in  the  boat. 

His  way  with  the  oars  was  inelegant  enough, 
without  a  pretence  at  feathering ;  but  it  was 
quite  effectual ;  and  Olivia,  in  the  stern-sheets, 
had  her  back  still  presented  to  the  Argus-eyes 
of  the  Towers.  She  answered  him  with  a 
puzzled  look,  as  well  she  might,  for  he  had  done 
no  more  than  think  aloud. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  she  said.  "  And  what  are 
the  back-blocks ;  and  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  for 
her  puzzled  look  had  lifted  on  a  smile. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  my  round  shoulders.  You 
get  them  through  being  all  your  time  in  the 
saddle,  up  in  the  back-blocks.  All  the  conntry 
in  Riverina  —  that  is,  all  the  fenced  country  — 
is  split  up  into  ten-mile  blocks.  And  the  back- 
blocks  are  the  farthest  from  the  rivers  and  from 
civilisation.  So  that's  why  they  call  it  the  back- 
block  bend ;  it  came  into  my  head  through  see- 
ing you.  I  never  saw  anybody  hold  themselves 
so  well,  Miss  Sell  wood  —  if  it  isn't  too  like  my 
cheek  to  say  so  ! " 


112  MY  LORD  DUKE 

The  keel  grounded  as  he  spoke,  and  Olivia,  as 
he  handed  her  out,  saw  the  undulating  battle- 
ments and  toppling  turrets  of  the  olden  pile 
upside-down  in  the  tremulous  mirror  of  the 
lake.  A  moment  later  the  pine-trees  had  closed 
around  her ;  and,  sure  enough,  in  a  distant  win- 
dow, Lady  Caroline  Sell  wood  lowered  her  opera- 
glasses  with  a  sigh  of  exceeding  great  content- 
ment. 

"  So  you  haven't  forgotten  your  old  life  yet," 
said  the  girl,  as  they  stepped  out  briskly  across 
the  shortening  shadows  of  the  pines.  "  I  wish 
you  would  tell  me  something  about  it !  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  you  lived  in  ever  such  a  little 
hut,  away  by  yourself  in  the  wilderness." 

"  I  did  so ;  and  in  a  clump  of  pines  the  dead 
spit  of  these  here,"  said  Jack,  with  a  relish. 
"  When  I  saw  these  pines  you  can't  think  how 
glad  I  was  !  They  were  like  old  friends  to  me ; 
they  made  me  feel  at  home.  You  see,  Miss  Sell- 
wood,  that  old  life  is  the  only  one  I  ever  knew, 
bar  this ;  often  enough  it  seems  the  reallest  of 
the  two.  Most  nights  I  dream  I'm  out  there 
again ;  last  night,  for  instance,  we  were  lamb- 
marking.  A  nasty  job,  that ;  I  was  covered  with 
blood  from  head  to  heels,  and  I  was  just  count- 
ing the  poor  little  beggars'  tails,  when  one  of 
the  dead  tails  wriggled  in  ray  hand,  and  bio  wed 


THE   OLD   ADAM  113 

if  it  wasn't  Livingstone's !  No,  there's  no  for- 
getting the  old  life ;  I  was  at  it  too  long ;  it's 
this  one  that's  most  like  a  dream." 

"  And  the  hut,"  said  Olivia,  with  a  rather  wry- 
face  ;  "  what  sort  of  a  place  was  that  ?  " 

"  I'll  show  you,"  replied  the  Duke,  in  what 
struck  the  other  as  a  superfluously  confidential 
tone.  "  It  was  a  little  bit  of  a  place,  all  one 
room,  with  a  galvanised  iron  roof  and  mother- 
earth  for  floor.  It  was  built  with  the  very  pines 
that  had  been  felled  to  make  a  clearingr  for  the 
hut :  so  many  uprights,  and  horizontal  slabs  in 
between.  A  great  square  hearth  and  chimney 
were  built  out  at  one  end,  like  the  far  end  of  a 
church ;  and  over  my  bunk  I'd  got  a  lot  of  pict- 
ures from  the  Australasian  Sketcher  just  stuck 
up  anyhow;  and  if  you  weren't  looking,  you 
knocked  your  head  against  the  ration-bags  that 
hung  from  the  cross-beams.  You  slept  inside, 
but  you  kept  your  bucket  and  basin  on  a 
bench -" 

"  Good  heavens  ! "  cried  Olivia.  And  she 
stood  rooted  to  the  ground  before  a  clearing  and 
a  hut  which  exactly  tallied  with  the  Duke's 
description.  The  hut  was  indeed  too  new,  the 
maker's  stamp  catching  the  eye  on  the  galvan- 
ised roofing ;  and,  in  the  clearing,  the  pine- 
stumps  were  still  white  from  the  axe ;  but  the 


114  MY  LORD  DUKE 

essentials  were  the  same,  even  to  the  tin  basin 
on  the  bench  outside  the  door,  with  a  bucket  of 
water  underneath.  As  for  the  wooden  chimney, 
Olivia  had  never  seen  such  a  thing  in  her  life ; 
yet  real  smoke  was  leaking  out  of  it  into  the 
pale  blue  sky. 

"Is  this  a  joke  or  a  trick?"  asked  the  girl, 
looking  suspiciously  on  Jack. 

"Neither;  it's  meant  for  the  dead  image  of 
my  old  hut  up  the  bush  ;  and  it's  the  little  place 
I've  fixed  up  for  myself,  here  on  the  run,  that  I 
wanted  to  show  you." 

"  You've  had  it  built  during  these  last  few 
weeks  ? " 

"  Under  my  own  eye ;  and  bits  of  it  with  my 
own  hand.  Old  Claude  thought  it  sheer  cussed- 
ness,  I  know ;  perhaps  you  will,  too ;  but  come 
in,  and  have  a  look  for  yourself." 

And  unlocking  the  padlock  that  secured  it, 
he  opened  the  door  and  stood  aside  for  the 
young  girl  to  enter.  Olivia  did  so  with  alacrity ; 
her  first  amazement  had  given  wa}'^  to  undi- 
luted interest ;  and  the  Duke  followed  her, 
straw  hat  in  hand.  There  was  a  tantalising 
insufficiency  of  light  within.  Two  small  win- 
dows there  were,  but  both  had  been  filled  with 
opaque  folds  of  sackcloth  in  lieu  of  glass ;  yet 
the  Duko  pointed  to  them,  as  might  his  ances- 


THE   OLD  ADAM  115 

tors  to  the  stained-glass  lights  in  chapel  and 
library,  with  peculiar  pride ;  and,  indeed,  his 
strange  delight  in  the  hut,  who  cared  so  little 
for  the  Towers  close  at  hand,  made  Olivia 
marvel  when  she  came  to  think  about  it. 
Meanwhile  she  found  everything  as  she  had 
heard  it  described  in  the  Australian  hut,  with 
one  exception :  there  were  no  ration-bags  to 
knock  one's  head  against,  because  nobody  made 
meals  here.  Also  the  pictures  over  the  bunk 
were  from  the  Illustrated  Lo7idon  JVews,  not  from 
the  jSketcJier,  which  Jack  had  been  unable  to 
obtain  in  England ;  and  they  were  somewhat 
unconvincingly  clean  and  well-arranged.  But 
the  bunk  itself  was  all  that  it  miglit  have  been 
in  the  real  bush ;  for  it  was  covered  over  with 
Jack's  own  old  blanket ;  whereon  lay  a  purring, 
3^ellow  ball,  like  a  shabby  sand-bank  in  a  sea  of 
faded  blue. 

"  So  this  is  Livingstone  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl, 
stooping  to  scratch  that  celebrity's  head. 

"  Yes ;  and  there's  old  Tom  and  Black  Maria 
in  front  of  the  fire.  I  lock  them  all  three  up 
during  the  day,  for  it  isn't  so  like  the  bush  in 
some  ways  as  it  is  in  others.  They  might  get 
stolen  any  day,  with  so  many  people  about ;  that's 
the  worst  of  the  old  country  ;  there  was  no  other 
camp  within  five  miles  of  me,  on  Carara." 


116  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  It  must  have  been  dreadfully  lonely  !  " 

"You  get  used  to  it.  And  then  every  few 
months  j^ou  would  tramp  into  the  homestead 
and  —  and  speak  to  the  boss,"  said  Jack,  chang- 
ing his  mind  and  his  sentence  as  he  remembered 
how  he  had  once  shocked  Claude  Lafont. 

Olivia  took  notice  of  the  cats,  at  which  Jack 
stood  by  beaming.  The  kitten  she  had  brought 
down  from  town  in  a  basket.  It  lived  in  Olivia's 
room,  but  she  now  suggested  restoring  it  to  its 
own  people.  Jack,  hovv^ever,  reminded  her  that 
it  was  hers,  in  such  a  tender  voice ;  and  proceeded 
to  refer  to  her  kindness  at  their  first  meeting,  in 
so  embarrassing  a  fashion;  that  the  girl,  seeking 
a  change  of  subject,  found  one  in  the  long,  low 
bunk. 

"I  see,"  said  she,  "that  you  come  here  for 
JOU.T  afternoon  siesta." 

"I  come  here  for  my  night's  sleep,"  he 
replied. 

"Never!" 

"  Every  night  in  life.  You  seem  surprised. 
I  did  ask  old  Claude  not  to  mention  it  —  and  — 
oh,  well,  it's  no  use  keeping  the  thing  a  secret, 
after  all.  It  suits  me  best  —  the  open  country 
and  the  solitude.  It's  what  I'm  accustomed  to. 
The  wind  in  the  pines  all  around,  I  wake  up 
and  hear  it  every  night,  just  like  I  did  in  the 


THE   OLD  ADAM  117 

old  hut.  It's  almost  the  same  thing  as  going 
back  to  the  bush  to  sleep ;  there's  not  two 
penn'orth  of  difference." 

"  You'd  like  to  go  back  altogether,"  said  the 
girl,  affirming  it  as  a  fact;  and  yet  her  sweet 
eyes,  gravely  unsatisfied,  seemed  to  peer  through 
his  into  his  soul. 

"I  don't  say  that,  Miss  Sellwood,"  he  pro- 
tested. "  Of  course  it's  a  great  thing  for  me  to 
have  come  in  for  all  this  fortune  and  power  — 
and  it'll  be  a  greater  thing  still  once  I  can  be- 
lieve it's  true  !  That's  the  trouble.  The  whole 
show's  so  like  a  dream.  And  that's  where  this 
little  hut  helps  me ;  Ws  real,  anyway ;  I  can 
sight  it.  As  for  all  the  rest,  it's  too  many 
measles  for  me  —  as  yet ;  what's  more,  if  I  was 
to  wake  up  this  minute  on  Carara  I  shouldn't 
so  very  much  mind." 

"I  wonder,"  said  Olivia,  with  her  fine  eyes 
looking  through  him  still.  "  I  just  wonder !  " 
And  her  tone  set  him  wondering  too. 

"  Of  course,"  he  faltered,  "  I  should  be  mighty 
sorry  to  wake  up  and  find  I'd  only  dreamt  you  !  " 

"  Of  course,"  she  returned,  with  a  laughing 
bow;  but  there  had  been  an  instant's  pause; 
and  she  was  studying  the  picture-gallery  over 
the  bunk  when  she  continued,  "  I  see  you've  been 
long  enough  in  England  to  acquire  the  art  of 


118  MY  LORD  DUKE 

making  pretty  speeches.  And  I  must  tell  you 
at  once  that  they  never  amuse  me.  At  least," 
she  added  more  kindly,  again  facing  him,  "  not 
when  they  come  from  a  person  as  a  rule  so  can- 
did as  yourself." 

"  But  you  mistake  me ;  I  was  perfectly  can- 
did," protested  poor  Jack. 

"  It  won't  do,"  said  the  girl.  "  And  it's  time 
we  went." 

Olivia  felt  that  she  had  made  excellent  friends 
with  the  Duke ;  that  the  more  she  saw  of  him, 
the  better  she  would  probably  like  him;  and 
that  she  could  possibly  be  of  use  to  him,  in  little 
ways,  if  he  would  be  sensible,  and  make  no  more 
than  a  friend  of  her.  She  was  not  so  sure  of 
him,  however,  as  she  could  have  wished;  and 
she  was  anxious  to  leave  well  alone.  It  was 
thus  the  worst  of  luck  that  at  this  last  moment 
she  should  perceive  the  suggestively  white 
bouquet  upon  the  high  deal  chimney-piece. 

"  You've  been  to  a  wedding,"  she  cried,  "  and 
I've  never  heard  a  word  about  it !  Whose  was 
the  wedding  ?  Some  of  the  tenantry,  of  course, 
or  the  bride  would  hardly  have  presented  you 
with  her  bouquet !  " 

And  she  reached  it  down,  and  widened  her 
pretty  nostrils  over  the  fading  flowers ;  but 
they  smelt  of   death;   and  their  waxen  white- 


THE   OLD  ADAM  119 

ness  had  here  and  there  the  tarnish  of  a  half- 
eaten  apple. 

"  There  was  no  bride,"  said  Jack,  "  and  no 
wedding." 

''  Then  why  this  bride's  bouquet  ?  No !  I 
beg  your  pardon ;  it  isn't  a  fair  question." 

"  It  is  —  perfectly.  I  had  it  made  for  a  young 
lady.  The  head-gardener  made  it,  but  I  told 
him  first  what  I  wanted.  There  was  no  word  of 
a  wedding ;  I  only  thought  a  nosegay  would  be 
the  right  sort  of  thing  to  give  a  young  lady,  to 
show  her  she  was  mighty  welcome ;  and  I 
thought  white  was  a  nice  clean  sort  of  colour. 
But  it  turned  out  I  was  wrong;  she  wouldn't 
have  liked  it ;  it  would  only  have  made  her  un- 
comfortable ;  so,  when  I  found  out  that,  I  just 
let  it  rest." 

"  I  see,"  said  Olivia,  seeing  only  too  clearly. 
"Still,  I'm  not  sure  you  were  right:  if  I  had 
been  the  girl " 

"Yes?" 

The  quick  word  altered  the  speech  it  had  also 
interrupted. 

"  I  should  have  thought  it  exceedingly  kind 
of  you,"  said  Olivia,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

She  replaced  the  flowers  on  the  chimney- 
board,  and  then  led  the  way  out  among  the 
pines. 


120  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"I'm  sorry  you  were  in  such  a  hurry,"  he  said, 
overtaking  her  when  he  had  locked  up  the  hut. 
"  I  might  have  made  you  some  billy-tea.  The 
billy's  the  can  you  make  it  in  up  the  bush.  I 
had  such  a  work  to  get  one  over  here !  I  keep 
some  tea  in  the  hut,  and  billy-tea's  not  like  any 
other  kind ;  I  call  it  better  ;  but  you  must  come 
again  and  sample  it  for  yourself." 

"  We'll  see,"  said  Olivia  smilingly ;  but  with 
that  she  lost  her  tongue ;  and  together  they 
crossed  the  lake  in  mutually  low  spirits.  It 
was  as  though  the  delicate  spell  of  simple 
friendship  had  been  snapped  as  soon  as  spun 
between  them,  and  the  friends  were  friends  no 
more. 

On  the  lawn,  however,  in  a  hammock  under  an 
elm,  they  found  a  young  man  smoking.  It  was 
Mr.  Edmund  Stubbs,  who  had  arrived,  with  his 
friend  the  Impressionist,  on  the  Saturday  after- 
noon. He  was  smoking  a  pipe  ;  but  the  ground 
beneath  him  was  defiled  with  the  ends  of  many 
cigarettes  ;  and  close  at  hand  a  deck-chair  stood 
empty. 

"I  smell  the  blood  of  Mr.  Llewellyn,"  said 
Olivia,  coming  up  with  the  glooming  Duke. 
"  He  smokes  far  too  many  cigarettes  !  " 

"  He  has  gone  for  more,"  said  the  man  in  the 
hammock. 


THE   OLD  ADAM  121 

"  I  wonder  you  don't  interfere,  Mr.  Stubbs ; 
it  must  be  so  bad  for  him." 

"  On  tbe  contrar3%  Miss  Sellwood,  it  is  the 
best  thing  in  the  world  for  him.  A  man  must 
smoke  something.  And  an  artist  must  smoke 
cigarettes.  You  can  tell  what  he  does  smoke, 
however,  from  his  work.  Pipe-work  is  inevita- 
bly coarse,  banal,  obvious,  and  only  fit  to  hang 
in  the  front  parlours  of  Brixton  and  Upper 
Tootinop.  Cio-ar-work  is  little  better ;  but  that 
of  the  cigarette  is  delicate,  suggestive,  fantastic 
if  you  will,  but  always  artistic.  Ivor  Llewel- 
lyn's is  typical  cigarette-work." 

"  How  ver}^  interesting,"  said  Olivia. 

"  My  colonial !  "  muttered  the  Duke. 

At  the  same  time  they  caught  each  other's 
eyes,  turned  away  with  one  consent,  nor  made  a 
sound  between  them  until  they  were  out  of  ear- 
shot of  the  hammock.  And  then  they  only 
laughed ;  yet  the  spell  that  had  been  broken  was 
even  thus  made  whole. 


CHAPTER  IX 

AN   ANONYMOUS   LETTER 

It  is  comparatively  easy  to  read  a  character 
from  a  face.  This  is  always  a  scientific  possi- 
bility. To  fit  the  face  to  a  given  character  is 
obviously  the  reverse.  And  those  who  knew 
the  worst  of  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood,  before 
making  her  acquaintance,  received,  on  that  oc- 
casion, something  like  a  shock.  They  had 
nourished  visions  of  a  tall  and  stately  figure 
with  a  hook-nose  and  an  exquisitely  supercilious 
smile ;  whereas  her  Ladyship  was  decidedly 
short,  and  extremely  stout,  with  as  plebeian  a 
snub-nose  and  as  broad  a  grin  as  any  in  her 
own  back-kitchen.  Instead  of  the  traditionally 
frigid  leader  of  society,  she  was  a  warm-hearted 
woman  where  her  own  interests  were  not  con- 
cerned; where  they  were,  she  was  just  what 
expedience  made  her,  and  her  heart  then  took 
its  temperature  from  her  head,  like  the  excel- 
lent servant  it  had  always  been.  A  case  very 
much  in  point  is  that  of  her  relations  with 
Claude  Lafont,  whom,  however.  Lady  Caroline 

122 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  123 

had  now  her  own  reasons  for  fearing  no  more. 
As  for  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's,  her  heart  had 
been  a  perfect  oven  to  him  from  the  first. 

Nor  did  she  make  any  pretence  about  the  mat- 
ter—  it  was  this  that  so  repelled  Olivia.  But 
the  very  falsity  of  the  woman  was  frank  to  the 
verge  of  a  virtue ;  and  the  honest  dishonesty  of 
her  front  hair  (which  was  of  the  same  shade  as 
Olivia's,  only  much  more  elaborately  curled) 
was  as  bluntly  emblematic  as  a  pirate's  flag. 
Lady  Caroline  Sellwood  was  honestly  dishonest 
to  the  last  ounce  of  her  two  hundredweight  of 
avoirdupois. 

This  was  the  kind  of  thing  she  thought  noth- 
ing of  doing.  She  had  been  engaged  for  months 
upon  an  egregious  smoking-cap  for  Claude  La- 
font.  That  is  to  say  she  had  from  time  to  time 
put  in  a  few  golden  stitches,  in  front  of  Claude, 
which  her  maid  had  been  obliged  to  pick  out 
and  put  in  again  behind  the  scenes.  Claude,  at 
any  rate,  had  always  understood  that  the  cap 
was  for  him  —  until  one  evening  here  in  the 
conservator}'-,  when  he  saw  Lady  Caroline  coolly 
trjdng  it  on  the  Duke. 

"It  never  did  fit  j^ou,  Claude,"  she  explained 
serenely.  "  It  was  always  too  small,  and  I  must 
make  you  another.  Only  see  how  it  fits  the  dear 
Duke ! " 


124  MY  LORD  DUKE 

The  dear  Duke  was  made  the  recipient  of 
many  another  mark  of  unblushing  favour.  He 
could  do  no  wrong.  His  every  solecism  of  act 
or  word,  and  they  still  cropped  up  at  times,  was 
simply  "sweet"  in  the  eyes  of  Lady  Caroline 
Sellwood,  and  his  name  was  seldom  on  her  lips 
without  that  epithet. 

Moreover,  she  would  speak  her  mind  to  him 
on  every  conceivable  topic,  and  this  with  a  free- 
dom often  embarrassing  for  Jack ;  as,  for  ex- 
ample, on  the  first  Sunday  after  church. 

"  I  simply  don't  know  how  Francis  dared ! " 
Lady  Caroline  exclaimed,  as  she  took  Jack's  arm 
on  the  sunlit  terrace.  "  Twenty-one  minutes 
by  my  watch  —  and  such  drivel !  It  didn't 
seem  so  to  you?  Ah,  you're  so  sweet!  But 
twenty-one  minutes  was  an  outrage,  and  I  shall 
tell  the  little  idiot  exactly  what  I  think  of 
him." 

"I  rather  like  him,"  said  Jack,  who  put  it 
thus  mildly  out  of  pure  politeness  to  his  com- 
panion ;  "  and  I  rather  liked  what  he  said." 

"  Oh,  he's  no  worse  than  the  rest  of  them," 
rejoined  Lady  Caroline.  "  Of  course  I  swear 
by  the  sweet  Established  Church,  but  the  par- 
sons personally,  with  very  few  exceptions,  I 
never  could  endure.  Still,  it's  useful  to  have 
one  in  the  family ;  he  does  everything  for  us. 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  125 

He  christens  the  grandchildren,  and  he'll  bury 
the  lot  of  us  if  he's  spared,  to  say  nothing  of 
marrying  poor  Olivia  when  her  time  comes. 
Ah  well,  let's  hope  that  won't  be  yet !  She  is 
my  ewe  lamb.  And  all  men  are  not  such  dear 
sweet  fellows  as  you !  " 

This  sort  of  speech  he  found  unanswerable; 
and  although  treated  by  her  Ladyship  with 
unflagging  consideration,  amounting  almost  to 
devotion,  Jack  was  never  at  his  ease  in  such 
interviews. 

One  of  these  took  place  in  the  hut.  Lady 
Caroline  insisted  on  seeing  it,  accompanied  by 
Olivia.  Of  course  the  whole  idea  charmed  her 
to  ecstasies ;  it  was  so  original ;  it  showed  such 
a  simple  heart;  and  the  hut  itself  was  as 
"  sweet "  as  everything  else  connected  with  the 
Duke.  So  was  the  pannikin  of  tea  which  Jack 
was  entreated  to  brew  for  her  in  the  "  billy  " : 
indeed,  this  was  too  sweet  for  Lady  Caroline, 
who  emptied  most  of  hers  upon  the  earth  behind 
her  camp-stool  —  an  act  which  Jack  pretended 
not  to  detect,  and  did  not  in  the  least  resent. 
On  the  contrary,  he  put  a  characteristic  con- 
struction upon  the  incident,  which  he  attrib- 
uted exclusively  to  Lady  Caroline's  delicate 
reluctance  to  hurt  his  feelings  by  expressing 
her  real   opinion  of   the  tea;    for   though   per- 


126  MY  LORD  DUKE 

sonally  oppressed  by  her  persistent  kindness, 
he  was  much  too  unsophisticated,  and  had  per- 
haps too  good  a  heart  of  his  own,  ever  to  sus- 
pect an  underlying  motive. 

Towards  tlie  end  of  tliat  week,  in  fact  on  the 
Friday  afternoon,  they  were  all  taking  tea  on 
the  terrace ;  or  rather  all  but  the  two  talented 
young  men,  who  were  understood  never  to 
touch  it,  and  who,  indeed,  were  somewhat  out 
of  their  element  at  the  Towers,  except  late  at 
night,  when  the  ladies  had  gone  to  bed.  "I 
can't  think  why  you  asked  them  down,"  said 
Lady  Caroline  to  Claude.  "  I  didn't,"  was  the 
reply ;  "  it  was  you.  Jack."  "  Of  course  it  was 
me,"  cried  the  astonished  Jack,  "and  why  not? 
Didn't  they  use  to  go  to  your  rooms,  old  man, 
and  to  your  house.  Lady  Caroline  ?  "  "  Ah," 
said  her  Ladyship,  with  her  indulgent  smile, 
"  but  that  was  rather  a  different  thing  —  you 
dear  kind  fellow ! "  All  this,  however,  was 
not  on  the  Friday  afternoon,  when  Lady  Caro- 
line was  absorbed  in  very  different  thoughts. 
They  were  not  of  the  conversation,  although 
she  put  in  her  word  here  and  there ;  the  sub- 
ject, that  of  the  Nottingham  murder,  being  one 
of  peculiar  interest.  The  horrible  case  in  ques- 
tion, which  had  filled  the  papers  all  that  week, 
had   ended   the  previous    day  in  an  inevitable 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  127 

conviction.  And  even  Claude  was  moved  to 
the  expression  of  a  strong  opinion  as  lie  put 
down  the  Times. 

"  I  must  say  that  I  agree  with  the  judge,"  he 
remarked  with  a  shudder.  "  '  Unparalleled  bar- 
barity '  is  the  only  word  for  it !  What  on  earth, 
though,  was  there  to  become  'almost  inaudible 
with  emotion '  about,  in  passing  sentence  ?  If 
I  could  see  any  man  hanged  with  equanimity, 
or  indeed  at  all,  I  confess  it  would  be  this 
loathly  wretch." 

"  Claude,"  said  Lady  Caroline, "  I'm  ashamed  of 
you.    He  is  an  innocent  man.    He  shall  not  die." 

"  Who's  to  prevent  it?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  I  am,"  replied  Lady  Caroline  calmly. 

"  There'll  probably  be  a  petition,  you  see," 
exclaimed  Claude.  "  Then  the  Home  Secretary 
decides." 

"  And  I  decide  the  Home  Secretary,"  said 
Lady  Caroline  Sellwood. 

It  was  grossly  untrue,  and  Olivia  shook  her 
head  in  answer  to  the  Duke's  astounded  stare, 
but  her  mother's  eyes  were  again  fixed  thought- 
fully on  lawn  and  lake.  The  short  dry  grass 
was  overrun  with  wild  thyme,  innumerable, 
butterflies  played  close  to  it,  as  spray,  and 
the  air  hummed  with  bees  likewise  in  love 
with  the  aroma,  whose  fragrance  reached  even 


128  MY  LORD    DUKE 

to  the  terrace.  But  Lady  Caroline  noted  none 
of  these  things,  nor  yet  the  shadows  of  spire 
and  turret  encroaching  on  the  lawn  —  nor  yet 
the  sunlight  strong  as  ever  on  the  lake  beyond. 
She  was  already  pondering  on  the  best  way  of 
bringing  a  certain  matter  to  a  head.  This  quiet 
country  life,  with  so  tiny  a  house-party,  and 
with  one  day  so  like  another,  was  excellent  so 
far  as  it  went,  but  the  chances  were  that  it 
would  not  go  the  whole  way.  It  lacked  ex- 
citement and  incentive.  It  was  the  kind  of 
life  in  which  an  attachment  might  too  easily 
stagnate  in  mere  foolish  friendship.  It  needed 
an  event;  a  something  to  prepare  for,  to  look 
forward  to ;  a  something  to  tighten  the  nerves 
and  slacken  the  tongue ;  and  yet  nothing  that 
should  give  the  Duke  an  opportunity  of  appear- 
ing at  a  public  disadvantage. 

So  this  was  the  difficulty.  It  disqualified  the 
dance,  the  dinner-party,  even  the  entertaining 
of  the  county  from  3.30  to  6.30  in  the  grounds. 
But  Lady  Caroline  overcame  it,  as  she  overcame 
most  difficulties,  by  the  patient  application  of 
her  ingenious  mind.  And  her  outward  scheme 
was  presently  unfolded  in  the  fewest  and  appar- 
ently the  most  spontaneous  words. 

"  He  is  not  guilty,  and  he  shall  not  die,"  she 
suddenly  observed,  as  though  the  Nottingham 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  129 

murder  had  all  this  time  monopolised  her 
thoughts.  "  But  let  us  speak  of  something 
else ;  I  had,  indeed,  a  very  different  matter 
upon  my  mind,  until  the  papers  came  and  ban- 
ished everything  with  this  ghastly  business. 
The  fact  is,  dear  Duke,  that  you  should  really 
do  something  to  entertain  your  tenantry,  and 
possibly  a  few  neighbours  also,  before  they 
begin  to  talk.  They  will  expect  it  sooner  or 
later,  and  in  these  things  it  is  always  better  to 
take  time  by  the  forelock.  Mind,  I  don't  mean 
an  elaborate  matter  at  all  —  except  from  their 
point  of  view.  I  would  just  give  them  the 
run  of  the  place  for  the  afternoon,  and  feed 
the  multitude  later  on.  Francis,  don't  look 
shocked !  I  hope  you'll  be  there  to  ask  a  bless- 
ing. Then,  Duke,  you  could  have  a  band  on 
the  lawn,  and  fireworks,  and  indeed  anything 
you  like.  It's  always  good  policy  to  do  the 
civil  to  one's  tenantry,  though  no  doubt  a  bore  ; 
but  you  needn't  shake  hands  with  them,  you 
know,  and  you  could  leaven  the  lower  orders 
with  a  few  parsons  and  their  wives 'from  the 
surrounding  rectories.  It's  only  a  suggestion, 
of  course,  and  that  from  one  who  has  really  no 
right  to  put  in  her  oar  at  all ;  still  I  know  you 
won't  misunderstand  it  —  coming  from  wg." 
He  did  not;  his  face  had   long  been  alight 


130  MY  LORD  DUKE 

and  aglow  with  the  red-heat  of  his  enthusiasm ; 
and  now  his  words  leapt  forth  like  flames. 

"The  very  ticket!"  he  cried,  starting  to  his 
feet.  "A  general  muster  of  all  sorts,  and 
we'll  do  'em  real  well.  Fizz  and  fireworks ! 
A  dance  on  the  lawn !  And  I'll  make  'em  a 
speech  to  wind  up  with ! " 

"  That  would  be  beautiful,"  said  Lady  Caro- 
line with  an  inward  shudder.  "  What  a  dear 
fellow  you  are,  to  be  sure,  to  take  up  my  poor 
little  suggestion  like  this  !  " 

"  Take  it  up,"  cried  Jack,  "  I  should  think 
I  would  take  it  up !  It'll  be  the  best  sport 
out.  Lady  Caroline,  you're  one  in  two  or 
three !  I'm  truly  thankful  for  the  tip.  Here's 
my  hand  on  it !  " 

His  hand  was  pressed  without  delay. 

"It  really  is  an  excellent  suggestion,"  said 
Claude  Lafont,  in  his  deliberate  way,  after  ma- 
ture consideration.  "  It  only  remains  to  settle 
the  date." 

"And  the  brand  of  fizz,  old  man,  and  the 
sort  of  fireworks !  I'll  leave  all  that  to  you. 
And  the  date,  too ;  any  day  will  do  me ;  the 
sooner  the  better." 

"  Well,"  said  Lady  Caroline,  as  though  it 
had  only  just  struck  her,  "  Olivia's  birthday 
is  the  twentieth " 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  131 

"  Mamma  !  "  cried  that  young  lady,  with  real 
indignation. 

"  And  it's  her  twenty-first  birthday,"  pursued 
the  other,  "  and  she  is  my  ewe  lamb.  I  must  con- 
fess I  should  like  to  honour  that  occasion " 

"  Same  here  !  By  all  manner  o'  means  !  " 
broke  in  the  Duke.  "  Now,  Miss  Sellwood,  it's 
no  use  your  saying  one  word ;  this  thing's  a 
fixture  for  the  twentieth  as  ever  is." 

The  girl  was  furious.  The  inevitable,  nay, 
the  intentional  linking  of  her  name  with  that 
of  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's,  entailed  by  the 
arrangement  thus  mooted  and  made,  galled 
her  pride  to  the  quick.  And  yet  it  was  but 
one  more  twang  of  the  catapult  that  was  daily 
and  almost  hourly  throwing  her  at  his  head ; 
neither  was  it  his  fault  any  more  than  hers; 
so  she  made  shift  to  thank  him,  as  kindly  as 
she  could  at  the  moment,  for  the  compliment 
he  was  so  ready  to  pay  her  —  at  her  mother's 
suggestion. 

"  You  could  hardly  get  out  of  it,  however, 
after  what  was  said,"  she  added,  not  perhaps 
inexcusably  in  the  circumstances. 

"No  more  can  you,"  retorted  the  Duke. 
"  And  here  comes  the  very  man  we  must  all 
consult,"  he  added,  as  the  agent  appeared,  a 
taking  figure  in  his  wrinkled  riding  breeches, 


132  MY  LORD   DUKE 

and  with  his  spurs  trailing  on  the  dead-smooth 
flags. 

The  agent  handed  Jack  a  soiled  note,  and 
then  sat  down  to  talk  to  the  ladies.  This  he 
did  at  all  times  excellently,  having  assurance 
and  a  certain  well-bred  familiarity  of  manner, 
which,  as  the  saying  is,  went  down.  In  this 
respect  he  was  a  contrast  to  all  the  other  men 
present.  He  inquired  when  the  Home  Secre- 
tary would  be  back  and  ready  for  his  revenge 
on  the  links.  And  he  heard  of  the  plans  for 
the  twentieth  with  interest  and  a  somewhat 
superfluous  approval.  Meanwhile  the  Duke  had 
read  his  note  more  than  once,  and  now  he 
looked  up. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  ? "  he  asked,  dis- 
playing the  crumpled  envelope,  which  had  also 
a  hole  through  the  middle. 

"  In  rather  a  rum  place,"  replied  the  agent. 
"  It  was  nailed  to  a  tree  just  outside  the  north 
gates." 

"  Well,  see  here,"  said  Jack,  who  stood  facing 
the  party,  with  his  back  to  the  stone  bulwark 
of  the  terrace,  and  a  hard  look  on  his  face  | 
"that's  just  the  sort  of  place  where  I  should 
have  expected  you  to  find  it,  for  it's  an  anony- 
mous letter  that  some  fellows  might  keep  to 
themselves  —  but  not  me  !     I'm  for  getting  to 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  133 

the  bottom  of  things,  whether  they're  nice 
or  whether  they're  nasty.  Listen  to  this :  '  To 
the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  '  —  he  prints  '  Duke  ' 
in  big  letters,  as  much  as  to  say  I'm  not  one. 
'  A  word  in  your  Grace's  ear'  —  he  prints  that 
the  same.  '  They  say,'  he  says,  '  that  you  hail 
from  Australia,  and  /  say  you're  not  the  first 
claimant  to  titles  and  estates  that  has  sprung 
from  there.  Take  a  friendly  tip  and  put  on  as 
few  frills  as  possible  till  you're  quite  sure  you 
are  not  going  to  be  bowled  out  for  a  second 
Tichborne.  A  well-wisher.'  Now  what  does 
it  all  mean  ?  Is  it  simple  cheek,  or  isn't  it  ?  I 
recollect  all  about  Tichborne.  I  recollect  see- 
ing him  in  Wagga  when  I  was  a  lad,  and  we 
took  a  great  interest  in  his  case  up  the  bush ; 
but  why  am  I  like  him  ?  Where  does  the 
likeness  come  in?  I've  heard  fat  men  called 
second  Tichbornes,  but  I  don't  turn  twelve 
stone.  Then  what  can  he  mean?  Does  he 
mean  I'm  not  a  Duke  ?  I  know  I'm  not  fit  to  be 
one  ;  but  that's  another  matter ;  and  if  it  comes 
to  that,  I  never  claimed  to  be  one  either ;  it  was 
Claude  here  who  yaided  me  up  into  this  pen  ! 
Then  what's  it  all  about?  Can  any  lady  or 
gentleman  help  me  ?  I'll  pass  the  letter  round, 
and  I'll  be  mightily  obliged  if  they  can !  " 
They  could:  it  was  pure  insolence,  not  to  be 


134  MY  LORD  DUKE 

taken  seriously  for  a  single  moment.  So  they 
all  said  with  one  consent ;  and  Jack  was  further 
advised  to  steel  himself  forthwith  against  anony- 
mous letters,  of  which  persons  in  his  station  re- 
ceived hundreds  every  year.  The  agent  added 
that  he  believed  he  knew  who  had  written  this 
one  ;  at  least  he  had  his  suspicions. 

In  a  word,  the  affair  was  treated  by  all  in  the 
very  common-sense  light  of  a  mere  idle  insult ; 
any  serious  sympathy  that  was  evinced  being  due 
entirely  to  the  fact  that  Jack  himself  seemed 
to  take  it  rather  to  heart.  Lady  Caroline  Sell- 
wood  dismissed  the  matter  with  the  fewest 
words  of  all ;  nevertheless.  Jack  detected  her 
in  a  curious,  penetrating,  speculative  scrutiny 
of  himself,  which  he  could  not  fathom  at  the 
time  ;  and  her  Ladyship  had  a  word  to  say  to 
Claude  Lafont  after  obtaining  his  arm  as  far  as 
the  house. 

"  That  sort  of  thing  is  never  pleasant,"  she 
observed  confidentially,  "  and  I  can't  help  wish- 
ing the  dear  fellow  had  kept  his  letter  to  him- 
self. It  gives  one  such  disagreeable  ideas !  I 
am  the  last  person  to  be  influenced  by  such 
pieces  of  impudence,  as  a  general  rule  ;  still  I 
could  not  help  thinking  what  a  very  awkward 
thing  it  would  be  if  your  IMr.  Cripps  had  made 
a  big   mistake    after   all !     Not  awkward  from 


AN  ANONYMOUS  LETTER  135 

everi/  point  of  view,  dear  Claude"  —  and  here 
she  pressed  his  arm  —  "  but  —  but  of  course  he 
had  every  substantial  proof?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Claude.  "  I  looked  into  it, 
as  a  matter  of  form,  on  Cripps's  return ;  though 
his  word  was  really  quite  sufficient.  Well,  he 
had  copies  of  the  certificate  of  Jack's  birth,  and 
of  that  of  my  uncle's  marriage,  besides  proof 
positive  that  Jack  was  Jack.  And  that  was 
good  enough  for  me." 

"  And  for  me  too,"  said  Lady  Caroline,  drop- 
ping his  arm.  "  He  is  a  dear  fellow ;  I  hardly 
know  which  is  greater,  my  regard  for  him  or 
my  sympathy  with  you !  "  And  her  Ladyship 
marched  upstairs. 

Meantime  the  agent  had  led  Jack  aside  on 
the  terrace. 

"I  know  who  sent  that  letter,"  said  he.  "I 
had  my  suspicions  all  along,  and  I  recognised  the 
disguised  hand  in  a  moment.  It  was  Matthew 
Hunt." 

"Well?"  said  Jack. 

"Well,  it  was  meant  merely  as  an  annoyance  : 
a  petty  revenge  for  the  handsome  thrashing  you 
gave  the  fellow  six  weeks  ago  — I  wish  I'd  seen 
it !  But  that's  not  the  point.  The  point  is  that 
I  think  I  could  bring  it  home  to  the  brute ;  and 
I  want  your  Grace  to  let  me  try." 


136  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"I  can't.  What's  the  good?  Leave  bad 
alone ;  we  should  only  make  it  worse." 

"  Then  mayn't  I  raise  the  rent  of  the  Lower 
Farm  ?  " 

"  No ;  not  yet,  at  any  rate.  I  mean  to  give 
the  fellow  a  chance." 

"And  an  invitation  for  the  twentieth  too?" 

"Certainly;  he's  a  tenant,  or  his  father  is; 
we  can't  possibly  leave  them  out." 

"  Very  well ;  your  Grace  knows  best." 

And  the  agent  went  his  way. 


CHAPTER  X 

" DEAD   NUTS " 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  early  morning  of 
the  twentieth  of  August.  A  single  jet  of  gas, 
lighting  a  torch  in  the  mailed  hand  of  a  life- 
size  man-at-arms,  burnt  audibly  in  the  silent 
hall ;  making  the  worst  of  each  lugubrious 
feature,  like  a  match  struck  in  a  cavern.  And 
Claude  Lafont  was  sitting  up  alone,  in  the 
Poet's  Corner,  at  work  upon  his  birthday  offer- 
ing to  Olivia  Sellwood. 

At  three,  however,  it  was  finished  in  the 
rough.  The  poet  then  stretched  his  fingers, 
took  a  clean  sheet  of  paj)er,  and  started  upon 
the  fair  copy  in  his  prettiest  hand.     It  began  — 

"  What  songs  have  T  to  sing  you? 
What  tales  have  I  to  tellY" 

And  there  it  stuck,  as  though  these  questions 
were  indeed  unanswerable;  the  fact  being,  there 
was  another  still  to  come,  which,  however,  in- 
volved an  execrable  couplet  as  it  stood.    Claude 

137 


138  MF  LORD  DUKE 

twisted  it  about  for  half-an-hour ;  realised  its 
gratuitous  badness ;  tried  not  to  ask  this  inane 
question  at  all,  hunted  his  rhyming  dictionary 
up  and  down,  and  found  he  must;  and  finally, 
with  a  prayer  that  it  might  impose  upon  Olivia, 
and  another  for  forgiveness  from  the  Muse, 
finished  his  first  stanza  with  — 

"  What  garlands  can  I  bring  you 
From  Fancy's  fairest  dell? 
Before  the  world  grew  old,  dear, 
The  lute  was  lightlier  strung ; 
Now  all  the  tales  are  told,  dear, 
And  all  the  songs  are  sung." 

It  is  needless  to  quote  more.  The  sentiments 
were  superior  to  their  setting.  An  affectionate 
camaraderie  was  employed,  with  success,  as  a 
cloak  for  those  warmer  feelings  of  whose  exist- 
ence in  his  own  bosom  the  poor  poet  was  now 
practically  convinced.  And  the  lines  in  them- 
selves were  not  all  or  wholly  bad ;  there  was  a 
certain  knack  in  them,  and  here  and  there  some 
charm.  But  if  infinite  pains  could  have  made 
them  a  work  of  genius,  that  they  would  have 
been.  It  was  almost  five  when  Claude  made  his 
best  signature  at  the  foot  of  the  last  verse  ;  yet 
there  were  but  four  of  these,  or  thirty-two  lines 
in  all. 


"DEAD  NUTS"  139 

He  put  them  in  an  envelope  which  he  sealed 
deliberately  with  his  signet-ring.  The  delibera- 
tion of  all  his  private  doings  was  enormous; 
neither  the  hour  nor  an  empty  stomach  could 
induce  briskness  at  the  expense  of  pains.  Yet 
Claude  was  exceedingly  hungry,  and  the  night 
had  put  an  edge  on  his  nerves.  As  he  paced  the 
floor  the  undue  distinction  between  his  steps,  so 
soft  on  the  rugs,  and  so  loud  on  the  parquetry, 
became  exaggerated  in  his  nervous  ears;  and  all 
the  silence  and  all  the  darkness  of  the  sleeping 
Towers  seemed  to  press  upon  that  single  lamp- 
lit,  sounding  room,  like  fathoms  of  wide  sea 
upon  a  diver's  helm.  Claude  had  not  thought 
of  such  things  while  he  was  still  at  work ;  he 
had  rather  overdone  matters,  and  he  poured  out 
a  sparing  measure  of  whisky  from  the  decanter 
upon  the  table. 

There  were  other  glasses  with  dregs  at  the 
bottom.  The  air  was  tainted  with  stale  smoke, 
and  within  the  fender  lay  the  remains  of  many 
cigarettes.  This  was  why  Claude  was  so  late. 
He  had  been  late  in  making  a  start.  Stubbs  and 
Llewellyn  had  sat  up  with  him  till  the  small 
hours.  The  Poet's  Corner  was  the  one  spot  in 
which  these  young  men  seemed  really  at  home. 
Here,  by  midnight,  but  seldom  before,  they  could 
manage  to  create  unto  themselves  their  own  ele- 


140  MY  LORD  DUKE 

ment ;  for  their  Philistine  host  went  early  to  his 
eccentric  lair ;  but  there  were  always  his  easy- 
chairs  to  lounge  in,  his  whisky  to  drink,  and 
Claude  Lafont  to  listen  to  their  talk. 

Not  that  the  poet  was  so  good  a  listener  as  he 
had  been  once ;  the  truth  being,  that  he  found 
himself  a  little  out  of  touch  with  his  clever 
friends  —  he  hardly  knew  why.  It  might  be  the 
living  under  one  roof  with  them;  he  himself 
would  never  have  asked  them  down.  Or  it 
might  be  the  simultaneous  hourly  contact  with 
an  opposite  type  of  man  —  the  kindly,  unaffected 
dunce  —  the  unburnished  nugget,  reeking  yet  of 
the  Australian  soil,  but  with  the  gold  wearing 
brighter  every  day. 

Certain  it  was  that  the  benefit  of  the  cousins' 
close  companionship  had  not  been  all  on  one  side. 
If  the  force  of  example  had  toned  down  some  of 
Jack's  pristine  roughness  of  speech  and  manner, 
it  had  taken  a  like  effect  upon  sundry  peculiarities 
of  a  converse  character  in  Claude.  In  a  word, 
there  had  be§n  an  ideal  interchange  between  the 
two,  founded  on  a  mutual  liking.  The  ameliora- 
tion of  the  Duke  was  sufficiently  obvious  to  all ; 
that  of  Claude  struck  Olivia  especially,  who  had 
never  been  blind  to  his  faults  ;  needless  to  add, 
he  was  himself  the  last  to  see  how  he  had  changed. 
Yet  he  divined  something  of  it  now.     As  he 


"DEAD  NUTS"  141 

thought  of  the  verses  he  had  just  written,  and  of 
the  critic  to  whom  he  would  have  submitted 
them  in  all  humility  a  couple  of  months  ago, 
he  knew  that  he  was  no  longer  as  he  had  been 
then ;  for  he  had  not  the  faintest  intention  of 
allowing  that  critic  to  see  these  verses  at  all. 

So  Claude  calmed  his  nerves,  eating  biscuits 
the  while,  and  sipping  soda-water  merely  tinct- 
ured with  whisky ;  until  all  at  once  the  lamp 
began  to  flicker  and  to  smell,  and  the  song  of 
the  birds,  singing  in  Olivia's  birthday,  came  at 
last  to  his  ears  through  the  plate-glass  and  rich 
curtains  of  the  octagonal  window.  Then  he  rose ; 
and  in  half  a  minute  the  lamp  was  out,  the  cur- 
tains drawn,  a  sash  thrown  up,  and  the  risen  sun 
shining  mercilessly  on  the  dishevelled  head  and 
blue  chin  and  battered  shirt-front  of  Claude 
Lafont. 

The  cool,  fresh  scene  inspired  him  with  de- 
light ;  it  was  indeed  a  disgraceful  novelty  to  the 
poet.  He  thought  nothing  of  rhyming  "morn" 
with  "dawn,"  and  yet  of  this  phenomenon  itself 
he  had  little  or  no  experience.  He  would  gain 
some  now  ;  he  also  promised  himself  the  unique 
pleasure  of  rousing  the  early-rising  Jack.  So 
he  got  out  of  the  window,  and  soaked  his  feet 
in  the  dew,  only  to  meet  Jack  emerging  from 
his  hut,  with  towels  on  his  arm,  as  he  approached 


142  MY  LORD  DUKE 

it.  Nor  was  the  Duke's  surprise  very  flattering ; 
but  his  chaff  was  fair  enough.  He  was  himself 
about  to  bathe  in  the  creek  at  the  north  end  of 
the  tank.  Would  Claude  join  him  and  then  go 
back  to  the  hut  for  an  early  pannikin  of  bush 
tea?  Claude  would,  and  did,  feeling  (as  all  felt 
at  Jack's  hut)  that  he  had  been  flashed  through 
the  thick  of  the  earth,  and  come  out  in  the  wilds 
of  Australia. 

In  the  hut  a  log  fire  had  burnt  well  up  by  the 
time  they  returned  with  wet  towels  and  glowing 
skins.  Over  the  flames  hung  the  billy-can,  with 
boiling  water  throbbing  against  the  side.  Jack 
lifted  it  down  with  a  stick,  and  threw  a  handful 
of  tea  among  the  bubbles.  "  Shall  I  sweeten  it? " 
he  then  asked ;  and,  at  Claude's  nod,  threw  in 
another  handful  of  brown  sugar. 

"  There,  that's  real  bush  tea  for  you,"  contin- 
ued the  Duke,  in  a  simmer  of  satisfaction  himself 
as  he  stirred  the  mixture  with  the  stick.  "Now 
take  the  pannikin  and  dip  it  in.  There's  no  milk, 
mind ;  that  wouldn't  be  the  thing  at  all.  Here 
are  some  biscuits,  and  they  aren't  the  thing 
either.  I'd  have  made  you  a  damper,  only  I 
never  could  strike  a  camp-oven ;  it's  been  trouble 
enough  to  raise  the  plant  I've  got.  What  do  you 
think  of  the  tea?" 

"  Capital !  "  cried  Claude,  who  was  seated  on 


"DEAD  NUTS"  143 

the  bunk.  And  indeed  the  whole  thing  appealed 
to  his  poetic  palate  ;  for  he  could  not  forget  that 
this  hut  was  within  half  a  mile  of  the  Towers 
themselves,  in  which  the  Duke  took  evidently 
far  less  pleasure ;  and  the  many-sided  contrast 
amused  his  literary  sense,  even  while  it  piqued 
his  family  pride. 

"  How  I  wish  it  was  the  real  thing  !  "  said 
Jack,  with  a  sigh.  "I'd  have  a  camp-oven,  then, 
and  you  should  have  your  mutton  chop  and 
damper  served  up  hot.  I  used  to  be  an  artist  at 
a  damper.  Then  after  breakfast  I'd  take  you 
with  me  round  the  paddocks,  and  you'd  help  me 
muster  a  mob  and  drive  them  to  the  tank ;  and 
you'd  hear  them  bleat  and  see  them  start  to  run 
when  they  smelt  the  water.  My  colonial  oath, 
I  can  see  'em  and  hear  'em  now !  Then  we'd 
give  our  mokes  a  drink  in  the  middle  of  'em, 
and  we'd  take  a  pull  at  our  own  water-bags. 
Then  we  might  camp  under  the  nearest  hop-bush 
for  a  snack,  and  I  should  yard  you  up  at  the 
homestead,  and  make  you  know  my  old  boss 
before  the  day  was  over.  What  a  day  it  would 
be  for  you !  You  wouldn't  believe  the  sky 
could  get  so  blue  or  your  face  so  red.  But  it's 
no  use  talking  —  here  we  are  again  !  "  And  he 
set  down  his  empty  pannikin  with  another  sigh. 

"You  wouldn't  really  prefer  that  life  to  this?" 


144  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  No ;  perhaps  not ;  but  I  like  to  think  of  it, 
as  you  can  see." 

"  Surely  you  like  your  new  life  best  by 
this  time?  You  wouldn't  go  back  there 
now?" 

"  I  like  my  new  friends  best ;  I  wouldn't  go 
back  on  them.     Olivia  and  you,  for  instance." 

"  It's  her  birthday,"  said  Claude ;  but  a  silence 
had  intervened. 

"  So  it  is.  God  bless  her !  I  haven't  got  her 
anything,  because  I  seemed  to  make  a  mull  of 
it  with  those  flowers.     Have  you?" 

"Yes,  I  have  a  trifle  for  her;  it's  rather  a 
diiferent  thing  on  her  birthday,  you  know.  And 
—  and  I've  written  her  a  few  verses  ;  that's  what 
I've  been  doing  all  night." 

"Clever  dog!"  said  Jack  enviously.  "See 
what  it  is  to  be  a  man  of  genius ;  here's  where 
it  comes  in  so  handy.  And  has  Llewellyn  done 
her  something,  too?  " 

"  Yes  ;  a  portrait  of  herself." 

"  Well,  let  him  label  it  to  that  effect,  or  she 
may  put  her  foot  in  it  like  me.  He  never  shows 
me  his  blooming  drawings  now.  But  I  wish 
you'd  let  me  see  your  poem." 

"It's  not  all  that;  it's  only  verses,  and  pretty 
bad  ones  too ;  still,  you  shall  hear  them  if  you 
like,  and  if  I  can  remember  them,"  said  Claude, 


"DEAD  NUTS"  145 

who  would  have  found  much  more  difficulty  in 
forgetting  them  so  soon.  "I  only  wish  they 
were  better !  There  are  some  lamentable  lines 
here  and  there.  I  tried  to  iron  them  out,  but 
they  wouldn't  all  come." 

"  Go  on  !  "  cried  Jack,  lighting  his  pipe.  "  I'll 
tell  you  whether  they're  good  or  bad.  You  go 
ahead ! " 

And  Claude  did  so,  only  too  glad  of  a  second 
opinion  of  any  kind ;  for  he  had  little  or  no 
intellectual  self-reliance,  and  was  ever  ready  to 
think  his  productions  good  or  bad  with  their 
latest  critic.  On  this  occasion,  however,  he 
would  have  been  better  pleased  witli  the  general 
enthusiasm  of  the  Duke,  had  not  the  latter  pro- 
ceeded to  point  out  particular  merits,  when  it 
transpired  that  the  ingenuity  of  the  rhymes  was 
what  impressed  him  most.  Knowing  where 
they  came  from,  the  poet  himself  was  unable  to 
take  much  pride  in  this  feature. 

"  They're  splendid  !  "  reiterated  Jack.  "  You 
ought  to  be  the  laureate,  old  man,  and  I've  a 
good  mind  to  tell  'em  so  in  the  House  of  Lords. 
You're  far  and  away  ahead  of  Shakespeare  at 
rhyming ;  he  hardly  ever  rhymes  at  all ;  I  know 
that ;  because  there  used  to  be  a  coj)y  of  him  in 
my  old  hut.  I  say,  I  like  that  about  the  gar- 
lands from  Fancy's  dell ;  that's  real  poetry,  that 


146  ^^Y  LORD  DUKE 

is.     But  do  you  mind  giving  me  the  last  four 
lines  again  ?  " 

Claude  gave  them  — 

"  While  yet  the  world  was  young,  dear, 
Your  minstrel  might  be  bold : 
Now  all  the  songs  are  sung,  dear, 
And  all  the  tales  are  told." 

"  First-chop,"  said  Jack,  whose  look,  however, 
was  preoccupied.  "  But  what's  that  you're  driv- 
ing at  about  the  minstrel  being  bolder  ?  What 
was  it  you'd  have  said  if  only  you'd  had  the 
cheek?     Say  it  to  me.     Out  with  it!" 

"  I  don't  know,  really,"  said  Claude,  laughing. 

"  Then  I  do :  you're  dead  nuts  on  Olivia !  " 

"What's  that?" 

"  You  like  her !  " 

"Naturally." 

"  As  much  as  I  do !  " 

"That  all  depends  how  much  you  like  her. 
Jack." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause.  The  Duke  was 
sitting  on  his  heels  in  front  of  the  fire,  into 
which  he  was  also  staring  fixedly;  so  that  it 
was  impossible  to  tell  whether  the  red  light 
upon  his  face  was  spontaneous  or  reflected. 
And  he  spoke  out  now  without  turning  his 
head. 


"DEAD  NUTS"  147 

"  Old  man,"  he  said,  "  I've  wanted  a  straight 
word  with  you  this  long  time  —  about  Olivia. 
Of  course  I  know  I  oughtn't  to  call  her  Olivia 
behind  her  back,  when  I  daren't  to  her  face ; 
but  that's  what  she  is  in  my  own  heart,  you  see 
—  and  that's  where  she's  pegged  out  a  claim  for 
good  and  all.  Understand?  We  can't  all  talk 
like  books,  old  man !  Still  I  want  to  make  my- 
self ^s  plain  as  possible." 

"You  do  so.  I  understand  perfectly,"  said 
Claude  Lafont. 

"  That's  all  right.  Well,  as  I  was  saying, 
she's  pegged  out  a  claim  that  no  other  woman 
is  ever  going  to  jump.  And  what  I  was  going 
to  say  was  this :  you  remember  that  night  in 
your  rooms  in  town?  I  mean  when  I  said  I 
meant  no  harm,  and  all  that;  because  I  spoke 
too  soon.  Worse  still,  I  felt  mean  when  I  did 
speak ;  it  didn't  ring  true  ;  and  long  I've  known 
that  even  then  there  was  only  one  thing  that 
would  have  held  me  back.  That  was  —  if  she'd 
been  your  girl !  I  gave  you  a  chance  of  saying 
if  she  was,  but  you  only  laughed  ;  and  sometimes 
I've  thought  your  laugh  wasn't  any  truer  than 
my  word.  So  I've  got  to  have  it  in  plain  English 
before  I  go  the  whole  hog.  Claude  —  old  man  — 
she  never  was  —  your  girl  ?  " 

"  Never,"  said  Claude  decidedly. 


148  ^^y  LORD  DUKE 

"  You  never  asked  her  —  what  I  think  of  ask- 
ing one  of  these  days?" 

"Never." 

"  Thank  God,  old  man.  I'm  dead  nuts  on  her 
myself,  I  tell  you  frankly ;  and  I  mean  to  tell 
her  when  I  can  rake  together  the  pluck.  I'm 
not  sure  I  can  keep  it  to  myself  much  longer. 
The  one  thing  I'm  sure  of  is  that  she'll  laugh  in 
my  face  —  if  she  isn't  too  riled  !  I  hear  her  do- 
ing it  every  night  of  ray  life  as  I  lie  where  you're 
sitting  and  listen  to  the  pines  outside.  I  hear 
her  saying  every  blessed  thing  but  'yes! '  Yet 
it  isn't  such  cheek  as  all  that,  is  it,  Claude  ?  I 
want  your  candid  opinion.  I'm  not  such  a  larri- 
kin as  I  was  that  day  you  met  me,  am  I  ?  " 

And  he  turned  to  the  other  with  a  simple, 
strong  humility,  very  touching  in  him ;  but 
(Claude  jumped  up,  and  getting  behind  him  so 
that  their  eyes  should  not  meet,  laid  his  hands 
affectionately  on  the  Duke's  shoulders. 

"  You  are  not  the  same  man,"  he  said  with  a 
laugh  ;  "  yet  you  are  the  same  good  fellow  !  I 
could  wish  Olivia  no  better  fate  —  than  the  one 
you  think  of.  So  I  wish  you  luck  —  from  my 
heart.     And  now  let  us  go." 

On  the  lawn  they  found  the  Home  Secretary 
driving  a  dozen  golf-balls  into  space  from  an  im- 
promptu tee.     He  had  come  for  good  now,  the 


''DEAD  NUTS''  149 

session  being  over  at  last.  And  this  was  his  daily- 
exercise  before  breakfast,  and  his  valet's  daily 
grievance,  whose  duty  it  was  to  recover  the  balls. 

Mr.  Sellwood  accompanied  the  younger  men 
into  the  house,  where  Claude  had  still  to  shave 
and  dress ;  but  the  Duke  was  the  uninterested 
witness  of  an  interesting  scene,  between  the 
Home  Secretary  and  his  wife,  before  any  one 
else  came  down  to  breakfast.  The  subject  was 
that  of  the  Nottingham  murder. 

"  They  are  making  an  example  of  you  !  "  said 
Lady  Caroline  bitterly,  looking  up  from  her 
husband's  daily  stack  of  press-cuttings,  which 
she  always  opened. 

"Let  them,"  said  Mr.  Sellwood,  from  the 
depths  of  the  Sportsman,  which  he  read  before 
any  of  his  letters. 

"They  call  it  a  judicial  murder  —  and  upon 
my  word,  so  do  I !  Your  decision  is  most 
unpopular ;  they  clamour  for  3^our  resignation 
—  and  I  must  say  that  I  should  do  the  same. 
Here's  a  cartoon  of  you  playing  golf  with  a  hu- 
man skull  for  the  ball !  " 

"Exactly  how  I  mean  to  spend  my  day — bar- 
ring the  skull." 

"  They  know  it,  too ;  it's  a  public  scandal ; 
even  if  it  wasn't,  I  should  be  ashamed  of  myself, 
with  that  poor  man  awaiting  his  end !  " 


150  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  He  was  hanged  five  minutes  ago,"  declared 
the  Home  Secretary,  consulting  his  watch. 
"  And  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  my  dear,  that  I 
had  his  full  confession  in  my  pocket  when  I 
gave  my  decision  the  night  before  last.  It 
appears  in  this  morning's  papers.  And  I  fancy 
that's  my  hole,"  added  Mr.  Sellwood,  nodding 
at  Jack. 

But  Jack  had  no  more  to  say  than  Lady 
Cai'oline,  utterly  routed  for  once.  The  Duke 
did  not  perhaps  appreciate  the  situation,  or  per- 
haps he  was  not  listening ;  for  his  eyes  hung  very 
wistfully  on  Olivia's  plate,  which  was  laden  and 
surrounded  by  birthday  offerings  of  many  de- 
scriptions. There  were  several  packets  by  post, 
and  an  open  cheque  from  the  Home  Secretary. 
Claude  had  added  his  beautifully  sealed  envelope 
before  going  upstairs,  and  now  Llewellyn  came 
in  with  his  "  likeness  of  a  lady."  The  lady  was 
evidently  lost  in  a  fog;  the  likeness  did  not 
exist;  and  the  whole  production  was  exactly 
like  a  photographic  failure  which  is  both  out  of 
focus  and  "  over-exposed."  But  it  was  better 
than  poor  Jack's  contribution  of  nothing  at  all. 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE   NIGHT   OF   THE  TWENTIETH 

A  LOOSE  chain  of  fairy  lights  marked  the 
brink  of  the  lake ;  another  was  drawn  tight 
from  end  to  end  of  the  balustrade  rimming  the 
terrace ;  and  between  the  two,  incited  by  cham- 
pagne and  the  Hungarian  band,  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  tenantry  cut  happy  capers  in  the 
opening  eye  of  the  harvest  moon. 

At  one  end  of  the  terrace  the  fire-workers 
awaited  the  word  to  rake  and  split  the  still 
serenity  of  the  heavens ;  at  the  other,  the  fairy 
footlights  picked  out  the  twinkling  diamonds 
and  glaring  shirt-fronts  of  the  house-party,  the 
footmen's  gilt  buttons  and  powdered  heads ; 
for  the  men  had  just  come  out  of  the  dining- 
room,  and  tea  was  being  handed  round. 

"  It  is  going  beautifully  —  beautifully !  "  whis- 
pered Lady  Caroline,  swooping  down  upon  the 
Duke,  who  had  himself  made  straight  for  her 
daughter's  side.  "Inside  and  out,  high  and 
low,  all  are  happy,  it  is  one  huge  success. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?     You  make  such  a 

151 


152  MY  LORD  DUKE 

charming  host !  My  dear  Jack,  I  congratulate 
you  from  my  heart ;  and  the  occasion  must  be 
my  excuse  for  the  familiarity." 

"  No  excuse  needed ;  I  like  it,"  replied  the 
Duke.  "  I  only  wish  you'd  all  call  me  Jack," 
he  added,  with  a  sidelong  look  at  Olivia; 
"surely  we're  all  pretty  much  in  the  same 
family  boat !  Well,  I'm  glad  you  think  it's 
a  success,  and  I'm  glad  I  make  a  decent  host ; 
but  I  shouldn't  if  I  hadn't  got  the  loan  of  such 
an  excellent  hostess,  Lady  Caroline." 

"  You  are  so  sweet !  " 

"  Nay,  it's  you  that's  so  jolly  kind,"  laughed 
Jack.  "  The  fact  is.  Lady  Caroline,  I  can  get 
along  all  right  at  my  own  table  so  long  as  I 
don't  have  to  carve  —  and  when  I  make  up  my 
mind  to  go  straight  through  cold  water.  I  was 
sorry  not  to  drink  Miss  Sellwood's  health  in 
anything  stronger ;  but  it's  better  so." 

"  So  fine  of  you,"  murmured  Lady  Caroline ; 
"  such  a  noble  example  !  You  can't  think  how 
I've  admired  it  in  you  from  the  first ! " 

Yet  she  looked  to  see  whether  his  remarks 
had  been  overheard.  They  had  not ;  even 
Olivia  had  turned  away  before  they  were  made, 
and  her  mother  now  followed  her  example. 
She  was  rewarded  by  seeing  the  Duke  at  the 
girl's  side  again  when  next  she  looked  round. 


THE  NIGHT  OF   THE    TWENTIETH    153 

They  were  standing  against  the  balustrade,  a 
little  apart  from  the  rest.  They  had  set  their 
cups  upon  the  broad  stone  rim.  Jack  began 
to  stir  his  tea  with  the  impotent  emphasis  of 
one  possessed  by  the  inexpressible.  But  Olivia 
gave  him  no  assistance  ;  she  seemed  more  inter- 
ested in  the  noisy  dancers  on  the  sward  below 
the  terrace. 

"I  hope  you've  had  a  good  time,  on  the 
whole,"  he  began,  ineptly  enough,  at  last.  "All 
this  is  in  your  honour,  you  know !  " 

"  Surely  not  all,"  replied  the  girl,  laughing. 
"  Still  I  don't  know  when  I  had  such  a  delight- 
ful birthday,  and  I  want  to  thank  you  for  every- 
thing with  all  my  heart." 

"  Everything ! "  laughed  Jack  nervously. 
"  I've  done  nothing  at  all ;  why,  I  didn't  even 
give  you  a  present.  That  was  through  a 
stupid  mistake  of  mine,  which  we  needn't  go 
into,  because  now's  the  time  to  rectify  it.  I've 
been  waiting  for  a  chance  all  the  evening.  The 
thing  only  came  a  few  minutes  before  dinner. 
But  better  late  tlian  never,  they  say,  and  so  I 
hope  you'll  still  accept  this  trifle  from  me.  Miss 
Sellwood,  with  every  possible  good  wish  for  all 
the  years  to  come.  May  they  be  long  and  — 
and  very  happy  ! " 

His   voice    vibrated   with    the    commonplace 


154  MY  LORD  DUKE 

words.  As  he  ceased  speaking  he  took  from 
his  waistcoat  pocket  something  that  was  cer- 
tainly trifling  in  size,  and  he  set  it  on  the  balus- 
trade between  the  two  tea-cups.  It  was  a  tiny 
leathern  case,  and  Olivia  held  her  breath. 
Next  moment  an  exquisite  ring,  diamonds  and 
emeralds,  scintillated  in  the  light  of  the  nearest 
fairy  lamp. 

"  This  is  never  for  me  ?"  she  cried,  aghast. 

"  That  it  is  —  if  you  will  take  it." 

She  was  deeply  moved :  how  could  she  take 
a  ring  from  him  ?  And  yet  how  could  she  re- 
fuse, or  how  explain !  Each  alternative  was 
harder  than  the  last. 

"  It  is  far  too  good  for  me,"  she  murmured, 
"  for  a  mere  birthday  present !  You  are  too 
generous.  I  can't  dream  of  letting  you  give 
me  anything  half  so  good!" 

"  What  nonsense  !  It  is  not  half  good 
enough;  it's  only  the  best  I  could  get  from 
Devenholme.  I  sent  in  the  dogcart  for  the 
crack  jeweller  of  the  place;  it  brought  him 
back  with  a  bagful  of  things,  and  this  was  the 
best  of  a  bad  lot.  I  wish  I'd  kept  the  fellow ! 
You  might  have  chosen  something  else." 

She  saw  her  loophole  and  made  no  reply. 

"Would  you  prefer  something  else?"  he 
asked  eagerly. 


THE  NIGHT  OF   THE    TWENTIETH    155 

"  Well,  if  you  insist  on  giving  me  a  present, 
it  must  be  something  not  half  so  good." 

"  That's  my  affair." 

"  And  perhaps  not  a  ring." 

"  That's  another  matter,  and  on  one  condition 
I'm  on :  you  must  let  me  drive  you  in  to-mor- 
row to  choose  for  yourself." 

She  consented  gratefully.  Her  gratitude  was 
the  more  profuse  from,  it  may  be,  an  exaggerated 
sense  of  the  dilemma  in  which  she  had  found 
herself  a  moment  before ;  at  all  events  it  was 
very  kindly  and  charmingly  expressed.  So  Jack 
pocketed  the  ring  and  swallowed  his  tea  in  ex- 
cellent heart ;  longing  already  for  the  morrow, 
for  the  expedition  to  Devenholme  with  Olivia 
alone  at  his  side. 

"  That  excellent  fellow  seems  very  busy  with 
our  Olivia.  Is  there  anything  in  it?"  asked 
Mr.  Sellwood  of  his  wife. 

"I  have  no  idea,"  replied  Lady  Caroline; 
"you  know  I  never  interfere  in  such  matters. 
I'm  glad  you  think  him  an  excellent  fellow, 
though.     He  is  simply  sweet." 

"  In  fact  we  might  do  worse  from  every  point 
of  view;  is  that  it?"  said  the  Home  Secretary 
dryly.  "  I'm  inclined  to  agree  with  you.  I  hope 
he  won't  foozle  his  shot  by  being  in  too  great  a 
hurry." 


156  MY  LORD  DUKE 

The  fireworks  had  begun.  Rocket  after  rocket 
split  the  sky  and  descended  in  a  shower  of  stars. 
A  set-piece  stood  out  against  the  lake ;  it  repre- 
sented six  French  eagles  on  a  shield. 

"  Come  and  have  a  look  at  the  family  fowls," 
said  Jack,  rejoining  Olivia,  who  had  been  talk- 
ing to  Claude.  "I'd  swop  the  lot  for  one  re- 
spectable emu ;  it  would  be  a  good  deal  more 
appropriate  for  a  Duke  like  me." 

Among  other  things  he  had  learnt  at  last  to 
pronounce  his  own  title  correctly.  Also,  he 
looked  well  at  all  times  in  evening  dress,  but 
he  had  never  looked  better  than  he  did  to-night. 
Claude  had  these  consolations  as  he  watched 
the  pair  go  down  and  mingle  with  the  throng. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's 
had  never  been  in  higher  spirits  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  chequered  career.  Olivia  had  not, 
indeed,  accepted  his  offering,  but  she  had  done 
much  better,  for  now  he  was  sure  of  having  her 
to  himself  for  hours  the  next  day.  And  what 
might  not  happen  in  those  hours?  This  was 
one  factor  in  his  present  content;  her  little 
hand  within  his  arm  was  another  that  thrilled 
him  even  more ;  but  there  were  further  and 
smaller  factors  which  j^^et  astonished  him,  each 
with  its  unexpected  measure  of  gratification. 
There  were  the  people  bowing  and  curtseying 


THE  NIGHT  OF  THE    TWENTIETH    157 

as  he  came  among  them  with  Olivia  on  his  arm. 
There  were  the  momentary  glimpses  of  the 
stately  Towers,  seen  from  end  to  end  in  a  flash, 
as  a  bursting  rocket  spattered  the  sky  with  a 
million  sparks  that  changed  colour  as  they 
floated  to  the  earth.  And  there  was  the  feel- 
ing, never  before  this  moment  entirely  unmixed, 
that  after  all  it  was  better  to  be  the  Duke  of 
St.  Osmund's  than  Happy  Jack  of  New  South 
Wales. 

"  You  were  right ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  an  at- 
tempt to  voice  what  he  felt  to  Olivia ;  "  you  were 
quite  right  that  day  in  the  hut  to  say  'I  wonder,' 
to  what  I  said  about  not  minding  if  I  woke  up 
and  found  mj'self  on  Carara  after  all.  You  set 
me  wondering  at  the  time,  and  now  I  rather 
think  that  I  should  mind  a  good  deal.  This 
place  grows  upon  you.  I  feel  it  more  and  more 
every  morning  when  I  get  the  first  glimpse  of 
it,  coming  through  the  pines.  But  I  never  felt 
it  as  I  do  to-night  —  look  at  that! " 

The  entire  front  of  the  building  was  lit  up  by 
an  enormous  Roman  candle,  pla5ang  like  a  foun- 
tain on  the  terrace.  Turret  and  spire  and  battle- 
ment were  stamped  sharp  and  grey  against  the 
darkling  sky.  The  six  Corinthian  columns  of 
the  portico  stood  out  like  sentinels  who  had 
taken  a  step  forward  as  one  man.     And  in  the 


158  MY  LORD  DUKE     ' 

tympanum  overhead  the  shield  of  the  six  eagles 
that  was  carved  there  showed  so  plainly  that 
Olivia  and  Jack  pointed  it  out  to  each  other  at 
the  same  moment. 

"  You  mustn't  think  I've  no  respect  for  the 
fowls,"  said  the  Duke,  when  they  were  both 
left  blinking  in  the  chaste  light  of  the  reproving 
moon  ;  "  I'm  proud  enough  of  them  at  the  bot- 
tom of  my  heart.  I  may  be  slow  at  catching 
on  to  new  ideas.  I  know  I  didn't  at  first  take 
to  everything  like  a  duck  to  water.  I  couldn't, 
after  the  life  I'd  led;  it  was  too  much  for  one 
man.  But  I  am  getting  used  to  it  now.  As  old 
Claude  says,  I'm  beginning  to  appreciate  it.  I 
am  so !  This  has  been  the  proudest  day  of  my 
life ;  I'm  proud  of  everything,  of  the  place,  the 
people " 

"  And  yourself  most  of  all ! "  cried  a  thick 
voice  at  his  elbow,  while  Olivia's  fingers  tight- 
ened on  his  other  arm. 

It  was  Matthew  Hunt.  He  was  flushed  with 
wine,  but  steady  enough  on  his  legs.  Only 
his  tongue  was  beyond  control,  and  a  crowd 
was  at  his  heels  to  hear  what  he  would  say 
next. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  you,"  he  continued  sav- 
agely. "  I  shan't  forget  that  morning  in  a 
hurry " 


THE  NIGHT  OF   THE    TWENTIETH    159 

"  Yet  you  seem  to  have  forgotten  who  you 
are  speaking  to,"  put  in  the  Duke  quietly. 

Hunt  laughed  horribly. 

"  Forgotten  ?  I  never  knew  !  All  I  know 
is  as  I'm  not  speaking  to  his  Grace  the 
Duke " 

Olivia  was  not  shaken  off.  She  only  felt  a 
quivering  in  the  arm  she  held  ;  she  only  guessed 
it  was  the  other  arm  that  shot  out  too  quick  for 
her  sight  from  his  further  shoulder ;  and  all  she 
saw  was  the  dropping  of  Hunt  at  their  feet,  as 
if  with  a  bullet  through  his  brain.  She  con- 
quered her  impulse  to  scream,  and  she  found 
herself  saying  instead,  "  Well  done  !  It  served 
him  right ! "  And  the  voice  sounded  strange  in 
her  own  ears. 

But  her  opinion  was  freely  echoed  by  those 
who  had  followed  in  Hunt's  wake.  A  dozen 
hands  raised  him  roughly,  and  kept  their  hold 
of  him  even  when  he  was  firm  upon  his  feet, 
half  stunned  still,  but  wholly  sobered.  He  tried 
to  shake  them  off,  but  they  answered  that  he 
must  first  apologise  to  his  Grace.  He  refused, 
and  they  threatened  him  with  the  pond.  He 
gave  in  then,  in  a  way,  speaking  one  thing,  but 
looking  another,  which  \vas  yet  the  plainer  of 
the  two  to  the  Duke.  It  meant  that  all  was 
not   yet   over   between   him  and   Hunt,     And 


160  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Jack  was  very  silent  as  he  led  Olivia  back  to 
the  terrace. 

"You  were  quite  right,"  she  said  as  they 
went;  "had  I  been  a  man  I  would  have  done 
it  for  you." 

"  You're  a  splendid  girl,"  he  replied,  to  her 
confusion ;  but  that  was  all ;  nor  did  he  seem 
conscious  of  what  he  said. 

Already  it  was  late,  and  in  another  hour  the 
band  had  stopped ;  the  fireworks  were  over ; 
the  people  all  gone,  and  gone  the  memory 
of  their  ringing  cheers  from  the  heart  of  the 
Duke,  who  stood  alone  with  Claude  Lafont  on 
the  moonlit  terrace.  Claude  had  heard  of 
Hunt's  insolence  and  summary  chastisement ; 
he  regretted  the  incident  extremely ;  but  his 
state  of  mind  was  nothing  to  that  of  the  Duke, 
who  was  now  a  prey  to  reactionary  depression 
of  the  severest  order. 

"  Are  there  any  revolvers  in  the  house  ?  "  said 
he.     "  I  shall  want  a  loaded  one  to-night." 

"What  in  the  world  for?"  cried  Claude 
in  dismay. 

"  Not  for  my  own  brains ;  you  needn't  alarm 
yourself.  But  you  see  what  a  bitter  enemy  I've 
made ;  he  might  get  me  at  his  mercy  out  there 
at  the  hut.  There  was  murder  in  his  eye  to- 
night, or  else  truth  in  his  words,  and  that  you 


THE  NIGHT  OF  THE    TWENTIETH    161 

won't  allow.     But  there  was  one  or  the  other. 
So  I  want  a  shooter  before  I  go  over." 

"  If  only  you  wouldn't  go  over  at  all !  What's 
the  use,  when  there  are  dozens  of  good  rooms 
lying  idle  in  the  house  ?  It  does  seem  a  mad- 
ness ! 

"  Well,  I  am  half  thinking  of  giving  it  up ; 
but  not  to-night,  or  that  brute  may  go  killing 
my  cats.  '  He's  capable  of  anything.  Give  me 
a  revolver  like  a  good  chap." 

Claude  fetched  one  from  the  gun-room.  He 
it  was  who  still  knew  the  whereabouts  of  all 
things,  who  kept  the  keys,  and  who  arranged 
most  matters  for  the  Duke.  He  was  Jack's 
major-domo  as  well  as  his  guide,  philosopher, 
and  friend. 

To-night  they  walked  together  as  far  as  the 
shores  of  the  lake.  Claude  then  returned,  but 
for  some  reason  the  pair  shook  hands  first.  No 
word  was  said,  save  between  eye  and  eye  in  the 
pale  light  of  the  new  harvest  moon.  But  Claude 
had  never  yet  seen  his  cousin  gaze  so  kindly  on 
the  home  of  their  common  ancestors  as  he  did 
to-night  before  they  separated.  And  that  look 
was  a  consolation  to  the  poet  as  he  returned 
alone  to  the  house. 

"This  is  the  last  link  with  that  miserable 
bush  life,"  said  Claude  to  himself;    "and  it's 


M 


162  MY  LORD  DUKE 

very  nearly  worn  through.  He's  beginning  to 
see  that  there  wasn't  so  much  after  all  in  the 
inheritance  of  Esau.  After  to-night  we  shall 
have  no  more  of  this  nonsense  of  camping  out 
in  a  make-believe  bush  hut ;  he  will  sleep  under 
his  own  roof,  like  a  sane  man,  and  I'll  get  him 
to  burn  the  bush  hut  down.  After  that  —  after 
that  —  well,  I  suppose  the  wedding-bells  and  the 
altar  rails  are  only  a  question  of  time !  " 

And  Claude  went  within,  to  talk  of  art  and 
of  books  until  bookman  and  artist  went  to  bed ; 
but  he  himself  returned  to  the  terrace  instead 
of  following  their  example.  A  dark  depression 
was  brooding  over  his  spirit,  his  mind  was  full 
of  vaofue  forebodingfs.  He  had  also  a  hundred 
regrets,  and  yet  the  last  and  the  least  of  these 
was  for  the  moment  the  most  poignant  too.  He 
was  sorry  he  had  yielded  to  Jack  in  the  matter 
of  that  revolver.  And  even  as  the  thought  came 
into  his  head  —  by  some  strange  prescience  — 
surely  never  by  coincidence  —  he  heard  a  shot 
far  away  in  the  direction  of  the  lake.  He  held 
his  breath,  and  heard  a  single  throb  of  his  own 
heart ;  then  another  shot ;  and  then  another  and 
another  until  he  had  counted  five. 

Now  it  was  a  five-chambered  revolver  that 
Claude  had  handed  fully  loaded  to  his  cousin. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   WEONG   MAN 

The  Duke  had  proceeded  to  his  hut  with  the 
slow  and  slouching  gait  of  a  man  bemused ;  yet 
the  strings  of  his  body  were  as  those  of  a  lute,  and 
there  was  an  inordinate  keen  edge  to  his  every 
sense.  He  heard  the  deer  cropping  the  grass 
far  behind  liim ;  and  he  counted  the  very  rever- 
berations of  the  stable  clock  striking  a  half- 
hour  in  the  still  air.  It  was  the  half-hour  after 
midnight.  The  moon  still  slanted  among  the 
pines,  and  Jack  followed  his  own  shadow,  with 
his  beard  splayed  against  his  shirt-front,  until 
within  a  few  yards  of  his  hut.  Then  he  looked 
quickly  up  and  about.  But  the  hut  was  ob- 
viously intact ;  there  was  the  moon  twinkling 
in  the  padlock  of  which  the  key  was  in  his 
pocket;  and  Jack  returned  to  his  examination 
of  the  ground. 

He  was  a  very  old  bushraan ;  he  had  a  black- 
fellow's  eye  for  a  footprint,  and  he  had  struck  a 
trail  here  which  he  knew  to  be  recent  and  not 

163 


164  MY  LORD  DUKE 

his  own.  He  followed  it  to  the  padlocked  door, 
and  round  the  hut  and  back  to  the  door.  He 
found  the  two  heel-marks  where  the  man  had 
sat  down  to  think  some  matter  over.  Then  he 
took  out  his  key  and  went  within,  but  left 
the  door  wide  open ;  and  while  his  back  was 
still  turned  to  it,  for  he  could  not  find  his 
matches,  there  was  a  slight  noise  there,  and  the 
moon's  influx  was  stemmed  by  a  man's  body. 

"  Good  morning.  Hunt,"  said  Jack,  without 
turning  round. 

The  tone,  no  less  than  the  words,  took  the 
intruder  all  aback.  lie  had  planned  a  pretty 
surprise,  only  to  receive  a  prettier  for  his  pains. 

"  How  did  you  know  it  was  me  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  By  your  voice,"  was  the  reply ;  and  the 
matches  were  found  at  last. 

"  But  before  that  ?  " 

"  I  expected  you.  Why  didn't  you  go  on  sit- 
ting there  with  your  back  to  the  door  ?  " 

"  You  saw  me  !  "  cried  Hunt,  coming  in. 

"  I  saw  your  tracks.  Hullo  !  Be  good  enough 
to  step  outside  again." 

"I've  come  to  talk  to  you " 

"  Quite  so  ;  but  we'll  talk  outside." 

And  Hunt  had  to  go  with  what  grace  he 
might.  Jack  followed  with  a  couple  of  camp- 
stools,  pulled  the  door  to,  sat  down  on  one  of 


THE    WRONG  MAN  165 

the  stools,  and  motioned  Hunt  to  the  other. 
The  great  smooth  face  shook  slowly  in  reply; 
and  the  moonlight  showed  a  bulbous  bruise 
between  the  eyes,  which  made  its  author  frown 
and  feel  at  fault. 

"  Yes,  you  may  look ! "  said  Hunt  through 
the  gap  in  his  set  teeth  which  was  a  piece  of 
the  same  handiwork.  "  You  hit  hard  enough, 
but  I  can  hit  harder  where  it  hurts  more.  A 
fine  Duke  you  are  !  Oh,  yes  ;  double  your  fists 
again  —  do.  You  won't  hit  me  this  time. 
There's  no  one  looking  on ! " 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,  my  boy,"  replied  Jack. 
"  Don't  3^ou  make  any  mistake  !  " 

Hunt  stuck  a  foot  upon  his  camp-stool  and 
leant  forward  over  his  knee. 

"  Recollect  why  you  struck  me  to-night  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"Well,  I  deserved  it — for  being  such  a  fool 
as  to  say  what  I  had  to  say  at  a  time  like  that. 
It  was  the  drink  said  it,  not  me ;  I  apologise 
again  for  saying  it  there,  I  apologise  to  you  and 
me  too.     I  was  keeping  it  to  say  here." 

"  Out  with  it,"  said  Jack,  who  to  his  own  as- 
tonishment was  preserving  a  perfect  calm ;  as 
he  spoke  he  began  filling  a  pipe  that  he  had 
brought  out  with  the  matches. 

"One  thing  at  a  time,"  said  Hunt,  producing 


166  MY  LORD   DUKE 

a  greasy  bank-book.  "  I'll  out  with  this  first. 
You  may  have  heard  that  the  old  Duke  had  a 
kind  of  weakness  for  my  folks  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  something  of  the  sort." 

"  Then  I'll  trouble  you  to  run  your  eye  over 
this  here  pass-book.  It  belongs  to  my  old  dad. 
It'll  show  you  his  account  with  the  London  and 
Provincial  Bank  at  Devenholme.  It's  a  small 
account.  This  here  book  goes  back  over  ten 
years,  and  there's  some  blank  leaves  yet.  But 
look  at  it  for  yourself;  keep  your  eye  on  the 
left-hand  page  from  first  to  last ;  and  you'll  see 
what  you'll  see." 

Jack  did  so ;  and  what  he  saw  on  every  left- 
hand  page  was  this:  "per  Maitland,  X50." 
There  were  other  entries,  "  by  cheque  "  and  "  by 
cash,"  but  they  were  few  and  small.  Clearly 
Maitland  was  the  backbone  of  the  account ; 
and  a  closer  inspection  revealed  the  further 
fact  that  his  name  appeared  punctually  every 
quarter,  and  always  in  connection  with  the  sum 
of  fifty  pounds  received. 

"  Ever  heard  of  Maitland,  Hollis,  Cripps  and 
Co.?"  inquired  Hunt. 

Jack  started ;  so  this  was  the  Maitland. 
"  They  are  my  solicitors,"  he  said. 

"  They  were  the  old  Duke's  too,"  replied 
Hunt.     "  Now  have  a  look  at  the  other  side  of 


THE    WRONG  MAN  167 

the  account.  You  know  the  Lower  Farm  ;  then 
look  and  see  what  we  pay  for  rent." 

"  1  know  the  figure,"  said  Jack,  handing  back 
the  pass-book.     "  It  is  half  the  value." 

"  Less  than  half  —  though  I  say  it !  And 
what  does  all  this  mean  —  two  hundred  a  year 
paid  up  without  fail  by  Maitland,  Hollis,  Cripps 
and  Co.,  and  the  Lower  Farm  very  near  rent  free  ? 
It  means,"  said  Hunt,  leaning  forward,  with  an 
evil  gleam  on  either  side  of  his  angry  bruise  — 
"it  means  that  something's  bought  of  us  as 
doesn't  appear.  You  can  guess  what  for  your- 
self. Our  silence !  Two  hundred  a  year,  and 
the  Lower  Farm  at  a  nominal  rent,  all  for  keep- 
ing a  solitary  secret !  " 

"  Then  I  should  advise  you  to  go  on  keeping 
it,"  said  Jack,  with  cool  point;  yet  for  all  his 
nonchalance,  his  heart  was  in  a  flutter  enough 
now ;  for  he  knew  what  was  coming — he  caught 
himself  wondering  how  much  or  how  little  it 
surprised  him. 

"All  very  fine,"  he  heard  Hunt  saying  —  a 
long  way  off  as  it  seemed  to  him  —  whereas  he 
was  really  bending  farther  forward  than  before. 
"  All  very  fine !  But  what  if  this  secret  has 
improved  in  value  with  keeping?  Improved, 
did  I  say  ?  Lord's  truth,  it's  gone  up  a  thousand 
per  cent,  in  the  last  few  weeks ;  and  who  do  you 


168  MY  LORD  DUKE 

suppose  sent  it  up  ?  Why,  you  !  I'll  tell  you 
how.  I  dessay  you  can  guess  ;  still  I'll  tell  you, 
then  there'll  be  no  mistakes.  You've  heard 
things  of  your  father  ?  You  know  the  sort  he 
was?  You  won't  knock  me  down  again  for 
mentioning  it,  will  you?  I  thought  not !  Well, 
when  the  Red  Marquis,  as  they  used  to  call  him, 
was  a  young  man  about  the  house  here,  my  old 
dad  was  in  the  stables ;  and  my  old  dad's  young 
sister  was  the  Duchess's  own  maid  —  a  slapping 
fine  girl,  they  tell  me,  but  she  was  dead  before  I 
can  remember.  Well,  and  something  happened ; 
something  often  does.  But  this  was  something 
choice.     Guess  what ! " 

"  He  married  her." 

"  He  did.  He  married  her  at  the  parish  church 
of  Chelsea,  in  the  name  of  Augustus  William 
Greville  Maske,  his  real  name  all  but  the  title ; 
still,  he  married  the  girl." 

"  Quite  right  too  !  " 

"  Oh,  quite  right,  was  it  ?  Stop  a  bit.  You 
were  born  in  1855.  You  told  me  so  yourself; 
you  may  remember  the  time,  and  you  stake  your 
life  /  don't  forget  it.  It  was  the  sweetest  music 
I  ever  heard,  was  that  there  date !  Shall  I  tell 
you  why?  Why,  because  them  two — the  Red 
Marquis  and  his  mother's  maid  —  were  married 
on  October  22d,  1853." 


THE    WRONG  MAN  169 

"  Well  ?  " 

Hunt  took  out  a  handful  of  cigars  which  had 
been  provided  for  all  comers  in  the  evening ; 
he  had  filled  his  pockets  with  them ;  and  now 
he  selected  one  by  the  light  of  the  setting  nloon 
and  lit  it  deliberately.  Then  he  puffed  a  mouth- 
ful of  smoke  in  Jack's  direction,  and  grinned. 

"  'Well,'  says  you;  and  you  may  well  '  well ! ' 
For  the  Red  Marquis  deserted  his  wife  and  went 
out  to  Australia  before  he'd  been  married  a 
month.  And  out  there  he  married  again.  But 
you  were  jive  years  old,  my  fine  felloiv,  before  his 
first  wife  died,  and  was  buried  in  this  here  parish  ! 
You  can  look  at  her  tombstone  for  yourself. 
She  died  and  was  buried  as  Eliza  Hunt ;  and 
just  that  much  was  worth  two  hundred  a  year  to 
us  for  good  and  all ;  because,  you  see,  I'm  sorry 
to  say  she  never  had  a  child." 

Both  in  substance  and  in  tone  this  last  state- 
ment was  the  most  convincing  of  all.  Here  was 
an  insolent  exultation  tempered  by  a  still  more 
insolent  regret ;  and  the  very  incompleteness 
of  the  triumph  engraved  it  the  deeper  with  the 
stamp  of  harsh  reality. 

Jack  saw  his  position  steadily  in  all  its  bear- 
ings. He  was  nobody.  A  little  time  ago  he 
had  stepped  into  Claude's  shoes,  but  now  Claude 
would  step  into  his.     Well,  thank  God  that  it 


170  MY  LORD  DUKE 

was  Claude  !     And  yet — and  yet  —  that  saving 
fact  made  facts  of  all  the  rest. 

"  I've  no  doubt  your  yarn  is  quite  true,"  said 
Jack,  still  in  a  tone  that  amazed  himself.  "  But 
of  course  you  have  some  proofs  on  paper?" 

"  Plenty." 

"  Then  why  couldn't  you  come  out  with  all 
this  before  ?  " 

Hunt  gave  so  broad  a  grin  that  a  volume  of 
smoke  escaped  haphazard  from  his  gaping  mouth. 

"  You'd  punished  me,"  he  said,  admiring  the 
red  end  of  his  cigar;  "I'd  got  you  to  punish  in 
your  turn,  and  with  interest.  So  I  gave  you 
time  to  get  to  like  the  old  country  in  general, 
and  this  here  spot  in  particular ;  to  say  nothing 
of  coming  the  Duke ;  I  meant  that  to  grow  on 
you  too.  I  hope  as  I  gave  you  time  enough? 
This  here  hut  don't  look  altogether  like  it,  you 
know ! " 

Jack's  right  hand  was  caressing  the  loaded 
revolver  in  the  breast-pocket  of  his  dress-coat; 
it  was  the  cold,  solid  power  of  the  little  living 
weapon  that  kept  the  man  himself  cool  and 
strong  in  his  extremity. 

"  Quite  fair,"  he  remarked.  "  Any  other  rea- 
son?" 

"  One  other." 

"  What  was  that  ?  " 


THE    WRONG  MAN  171 

"  Well,  you  see,  it's  like  this  "  —  and  Hunt 
dropped  his  insolence  for  a  confidential  tone  far 
harder  to  brook.  "It's  like  this,"  he  repeated, 
plumping  down  on  the  camp-stool  in  front  of 
Jack :  "  there's  nobody  knows  of  that  there 
marriage  but  us  Hunts.  We've  kep'  it  a  dead 
secret  for  nearly  forty  years,  and  we  don't  want 
to  let  it  out  now.  But,  as  I  say,  the  secret's 
gone  up  in  value.  Surely  it's  worth  more  than 
two  hundred  a  year  to  you  ?  You  don't  want 
to  be  knocked  sideways  by  that  there  Claude 
Lafont,  do  you  ?  Yet  he's  the  next  man.  You'd 
never  let  yourself  be  chucked  out  by  a  chap 
like  that?" 

"  That's  my  business.     What's  your  price  ?  " 

"  Two  thousand." 

"A  year?" 

"  Two  thousand  a  year.  Come,  it's  worth  that 
to  you  if  it's  worth  a  penny-piece.  Think  of 
your  income ! " 

"  Think  of  yours.  Two  hundred  on  condition 
you  kept  a  single  secret!  That  was  the  con- 
dition, wasn't  it  ?  " 

"Well?" 

"  You've  let  the  secret  out,  you  cur!"  cried 
Jack,  jumping  to  his  feet.  "  And  you've  lost 
your  income  by  it  for  good  and  all.  Two  thou- 
sand!   You'll  never  see  another  two  hundred. 


172  MY  LORD  DUKE 

What,  did  you  take  me  for  a  dirty  skunk  like 
yourself?  Do  you  think  I  got  in  this  position 
through  my  own  fault  or  of  my  own  accord  ? 
Do  you  think  I'm  so  sweet  on  it  as  to  sit  tight  at 
the  mercy  of  a  thing  like  you  ?  Not  me  !  What 
you've  told  me  to-night  the  real  Duke  and  his 
lawyers  shall  hear  to-morrow;  and  think  your- 
self lucky  if  you  aren't  run  in  for  your  shot  at 
a  damnable  conspiracy  !  Did  you  really  suppose 
I  cared  as  much  as  all  that?  Do  you  think  — 
oh !  for  God's  sake,  clear  out,  man,  before  I  do 
you  any  more  damage  !  " 

"  Oh,  you're  good  at  that,"  said  Hunt  through 
his  broken  tooth.  He  had  risen,  and  now  he 
retreated  a  few  paces.  "  You're  not  bad  with 
your  fists,  you  fool,  but  I've  come  prepared  for 
you  this  time  !  "  and  he  drew  a  knife  ;  but  the 
revolver  covered  him  next  instant. 

"  And  I  for  you,"  retorted  Jack.  "  I  give  you 
five  seconds  to  clear  out  in.     One  — two " 

"  My  God,  are  there  such  fools " 

"  Three  —  four " 

The  man  was  gone.  At  a  safer  range  he 
stopped  again  to  threaten  and  gloat,  to  curse 
and  to  coax  alternately.  But  Jack  took  no 
more  notice ;  he  turned  into  the  hut,  flung  the 
pistol  on  the  table,  and  stood  motionless  until 
the   railing   died   away.     Yet  he   had   heeded 


THE    WRONG  MAN  173 

never  a  word  of  it,  but  was  rather  reminded  that 
it  had  been  by  its  very  cessation,  as  one  notes 
the  stopping  of  a  clock.  It  made  him  look  out 
once  more,  however ;  and,  looking,  he  saw  the 
last  of  Matthew  Hunt  in  the  moonlit  spaces 
among  the  pines.  His  retreating  steps  died 
slowly  away.  The  snapping  of  a  twig  was  just 
audible  a  little  after.  And  then  in  the  mellow 
distance  the  stable  clock  chimed  and  struck  one; 
and  again  Jack  found  himself  keeping  an  im- 
aginary count  of  the  reverberations  until  all  was 
still. 

He  stood  at  the  door  a  moment  longer.  The 
feathered  barbs  of  the  pine-trees  were  drawn  in 
ink  upon  a  starry  slate.  The  night  was  as  mild 
and  clear  and  silent  as  many  a  one  in  the 
Riverina  itself ;  and  Jack  tried  to  think  himself 
there ;  to  regard  this  English  summer  as  the 
bushman's  dream  that  he  had  so  often  imagined 
it  here  in  his  model  bush  hut.  But  his  imagi- 
nation was  very  stubborn  to-night.  The  stately 
home  which  was  not  his  rose  in  his  mind's  eye 
between  him  and  the  stars ;  once  more  he  saw  it 
illumined  in  a  flash  from  spire  to  terrace ;  once 
more  the  portico  columns  marched  forward  as 
one  man,  while  the  six  eagles  flew  out  in  the 
tympanum  above ;  and  though  a  purring  arose 
from  his   feet,  and  something   soft  and  warm 


174  MY  LORD  DUKE 

rubbed  kindly  against  his  shins,  he  could  no 
longer  forget  where  he  was  and  who  he  was 
not.  He  was  not  the  Duke.  He  was  the 
wrong  man  after  all.  And  the  hut  that  he 
had  built  and  inhabited,  as  a  protest  against 
all  this  grandeur,  was  a  monument  of  irony- 
such  as  the  hand  of  man  had  never  reared  in 
all  the  world  before. 

The  wrong  man  !  He  flung  himself  upon  the 
elaborately  rude  bed  to  grapple  with  those  three 
words  until  he  might  grasp  what  they  meant  to 
himself.  And  as  he  lay,  his  little  cat  leapt 
softly  up  and  purred  upon  his  heart,  as  if  it 
knew  the  aching  need  there  of  a  sympathy  be- 
yond the  reach  of  words. 

Only  one  aspect  of  his  case  came  home  to  him 
now,  but  that  was  its  worst  aspect.  The  life  he 
was  to  lose  mattered  little  after  all.  He  might 
miss  it  more  than  he  had  once  thought;  it  was 
probable  he  would  but  truly  appreciate  it  when 
it  was  a  life  of  the  past,  as  is  the  way  of  a  man. 
Yet  even  that  could  be  borne.  The  losing^  of 
the  girl  was  different  and  a  million  times  worse. 
But  lose  her  he  must:  for  what  was  he  now? 
Instead  of  a  Duke  a  nobody ;  not  even  a  de- 
cently born  peasant ;  a  nameless  husk  of  human- 
ity, a  derelict,  a  nonentity,  the  natural  son  of  a 
notorious  rake.     Must  he  go  back  then  to  the 


THE    WRONG  MAN  175 

bush,  and  back  alone?  Must  he  put  himself 
beyond  the  reach  of  soft  words  and  softer  eyes 
for  ever?  He  could  feel  again  that  little  hand 
within  his  arm;  and  it  was  worse  a  hundred- 
fold than  the  vision  of  the  Towers  lit  from 
end  to  end  by  the  light  of  a  bursting  rocket. 
Would  not  the  grave  itself 

Wait. 

There  was  the  pistol  on  the  table.  The  pale 
light  lay  along  the  barrel.  He  held  his  breath 
and  lay  gazing  at  the  faint  gleam  until  it  grew 
into  a  blinding  sun  that  scorched  him  to  the 
soul.  And  he  hardly  knew  what  he  had  done 
when  Claude  Lafont  found  him  wandering  out- 
side with  the  hot  pistol  still  in  his  hand. 

Jack  looked  upon  the  breathless  poet  with 
dull  eyes  that  slowly  brightened ;  then  he 
pressed  the  lever,  shot  out  the  empty  cart- 
ridges, blew  through  the  chambers,  and  handed 
the  revolver  back  to  Claude. 

"I've  no  more  use  for  it.  I'm  much  obliged 
to  you.  No,  I've  done  no  damage  with  it; 
that's  just  the  point.  I  was  emptying  it  for 
safety's  sake.  I'm  so  sorry  you  heard.  I — I 
did  think  of  emptying  it  —  through  ray  own 
head." 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  why  ?  " 

"  Only  for  a  moment,  though.     It  would  have 


176  MY  LORD  DUKE 

been  a  poor  trick  after  all.  Still  I  had  to  empty 
it  first  and  see  that  afterwards." 

"  But  why  ?     What  on  earth  has  happened  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  the  man  after  all." 

"  What  man  ?  " 

«  The  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's." 

And  Claude  was  made  to  hear  everything  be- 
fore he  was  allowed  the  free  expression  of  his 
astonishment  and  incredulity.  Then  he  laughed. 
His  incredulity  remained. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  cried,  "  there's  not  a 
word  of  truth  in  the  whole  story.  It's  one 
colossal  fraud.  Hunt's  a  blackguard.  I  wouldn't 
believe  his  oath  in  a  court  of  justice." 

"  What  about  the  bank-book?  " 

"  A  fraud  within  a  fraud !  " 

"Not  it.  I'll  answer  for  that.  Oh,  no;  we 
could  have  inquired  at  the  bank.  Hunt's  a 
blackguard,  but  no  fool.  And  you  know  what 
my  father  was ;  from  all  accounts  he  wasn't 
the  man  to  think  twice  about  a  little  job  like 
bigamy." 

"I  wouldn't  say  that;  few  men  of  our  sort 
would  be  so  reckless  in  such  a  matter,"  declared 
the  poet.  "  Now,  from  all  /  know  of  him,  I 
should  have  said  it  was  most  inconsistent  with 
his  character  to  marry  the  girl  at  all.  Every- 
thing but  that!     And  surely  it's  quite  possible 


THE    WRONG  MAN  177 

to  explain  even  that  two  hundred  a  year  with- 
out swallowing  such  a  camel  as  downright 
bigamy.  My  grandfather  was  a  sort  of  puri- 
tanical monomaniac ;  even  in  the  days  of  his 
mental  vigfour  I  can  remember  him  as  a  sterner 
moralist  than  any  of  one's  school-masters  or  col- 
lege dons.  Then,  too,  he  was  morbidly  sensi- 
tive about  the  family  failings  and  traditions, 
and  painfully  anxious  to  improve  the  tone  of 
our  house.  Bear  that  in  mind  and  conceive  as 
gross  a  scandal  as  you  like  —  but  not  bigamy. 
Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  a  man  like  my 
grandfather  would  have  thought  two  hundred 
a  year  for  all  time  too  much  to  pay  for  hushing 
such  a  thing  up  for  all  time  ?  Not  he  —  not  he  !  " 
There  fell  a  heavy  hand  upon  Claude's  back. 

"  Claude,  old  boy,  I  always  said  you  were  a 
genius.    Do  you  know,  I  never  thought  of  that  ?  " 

"  It's  obvious  ;  besides,  there's  the  Eliza  Hunt 
on  the  gravestone,  I've  seen  it  mj^self.  But 
look  here  —  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do." 

"What,  old  man?" 

"  I'll  run  up  to  town  to-morrow  and  see  Mait- 
land,  HoUis,  Cripps  about  the  whole  matter. 
They've  paid  the  money  ;  they  are  the  men 
to  know  all  about  it.  Stop  a  moment  I  Hunt 
was  clever  enoug'h  to  have  an  exact  date  for  the 
marriage.     What  was  it  again  ?" 

N 


178  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  October  22d,  1853." 

"  I  think  he  said  Chelsea  parish  church  ?  " 

"  He  did." 

Claude  scribbled  a  note  of  each  point  on  his 
shirt-cuff. 

"  That's  all  I  want,"  said  he.  "  I'll  run  up 
by  the  first  train,  and  back  by  the  last.  Mean- 
while, take  my  word  for  it,  you're  as  safe  as  the 
Queen  upon  her  throne." 

"  And  you  ?  "  said  Jack. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  me  ;  I'm  very  well  as  I  am." 

Claude  was  fully  conscious  of  his  semi-heroic 
attitude;  indeed  he  enjoyed  it,  as  he  had  en- 
joyed many  a  less  inevitable  pose  in  his  day. 
But  that  he  could  not  help  ;  and  Jack  was  per- 
haps the  last  person  in  the  world  to  probe  be- 
neath the  surface  of  a  kind  action.  His  great 
hand  found  Claude's,  and  his  deep  voice  quiv- 
ered with  emotion. 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is,"  he  faltered,  "  but 
this  thing  has  got  at  me  more  than  I  meant  it 
to.  Hark  at  that !  Three  o'clock  ;  it'll  be  light 
before  we  know  where  we  are  ;  you  won't  leave 
a  fellow  till  it  is,  will  you  ?  I'm  in  a  funk  ! 
I've  got  to  believe  the  worst  till  I  know  other- 
wise —  that's  all  about  it.  The  day  I  shan't 
mind  tackling  by  myself,  but  for  God's  sake 
don't  go  and  leave  me  to-night.     You've  got  to 


THE    WRONG  MAN  179 

go  in  the  morning ;  stop  the  rest  of  the  night 
out  here  with  me.  You  shall  have  the  bunk, 
and  I'll  doss  down  on  the  floor.  I'll  light  the 
fire  and  brew  a  billy  of  tea  this  minute  if  only 
you'll  stay  with  me  now.  Didn't  you  once  say 
you'd  have  hold  of  my  sleeve  ?  And  so  you 
have  had,  old  man,  so  you  have  had  :  only  now's 
your  time  — more  than  ever." 

Claude  was  deeply  moved  by  the  spectacle  of 
a  stronger  man  than  himself  so  stricken  in  every 
nerve.  He  looked  very  compassionately  upon 
the  eager  open  face.  There  were  a  few  grey 
hairs  about  either  temple,  but  in  the  faint  star- 
light they  looked  perfectly  white ;  and  there 
were  crow's-feet  under  the  eyes  that  seemed  to 
have  escaped  his  attention  till  now.  He  con- 
sented to  remain  on  one  condition :  he  must  go 
back  and  put  out  the  lights,  and  close  the  win- 
dows in  the  Poet's  Corner.  So  Jack  went  with 
him ;  and  those  lights  were  the  only  sign  of  life 
in  all  the  vast  expanse  of  ancient  masonry, 
that  still  belonged  to  one  of  them,  though  they 
knew  not  now  to  which.  It  was  this  thought, 
perhaps,  that  kept  both  men  silent  on  the  ter- 
race when  the  lights  had  been  put  out  and  the 
windows  shut.  Then  Jack  ran  his  arm  affection- 
ately through  that  of  Claude,  and  together  they 
turned  their  backs  upon  those  debatable  stones. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE  INTERREGNUM 

Lady  Caroline  Sellwood  was  delighted  to 
find  Jack  in  the  hall  on  making  her  descent 
next  morning.  He  appeared  lost,  however,  in 
a  gloomy  admiration  of  the  ghostly  guard  in 
armour.  The  attitude  and  the  expression  were 
alike  so  foreign  to  him  that  Lady  Caroline 
halted  on  the  stairs.  But  only  for  a  moment ; 
the  next.  Jack  was  overwhelmed  by  the  soft 
tempest  of  her  goodwill,  and  making  prodigious 
efforts  to  return  her  smiles. 

Suddenly  she  became  severe. 

"  You're  knocked  up  !  You  look  as  if  you 
hadn't  had  a  wink  of  sleep.  Oh,  I  knew  how  it 
would  be  after  all  that  racket ;  you  dear,  naughty 
Duke,  you  should  have  spared  yourself  more  !  " 
I  was  a  fool,"  admitted  Jack.  "But  —  but 
I  say.  Lady  Caroline,  I  do  wish  you  wouldn't 
Duke  me  ! " 

"  How  sweet  of  you,"  murmured  Lady  Caro- 
line. 

180 


THE  INTERREGNUM  181 

"  You  know  you  didn't  last  night ! "  he 
hastily  reminded  her. 

"  But  that  was  an  occasion." 

"  So  is  this ! "  exclaimed  Jack,  and  his  tone 
struck  the  other  more  than  she  showed. 

"  Where  is  Claude  ?  "  inquired  Lady  Caroline 
suddenly. 

"  On  his  way  to  Devenholme." 

"  Devenholme  !  " 

"  And  London,  for  the  day.  He  had  to  catch 
the  9.40." 

"  So  he  has  gone  up  to  town  !  Odd  that  one 
never  heard  anything  about  it  —  I  mean  to  say 
he  could  have  made  himself  so  useful  to  one. 
May  I  ask  when  he  decided  to  go  ?  " 

Jack  hesitated.  He  had  been  charged  to  keep 
a  discreet  tongue  during  Claude's  absence ;  he 
had  been  supplied  with  a  number  of  reasons  and 
excuses  ready-made ;  but  perfect  frankness  was 
an  instinctive  need  of  this  primitive  soul,  whose 
present  thoughts  stood  out  in  easy  print  upon 
his  face,  even  as  he  resolved  to  resist  his  in- 
stincts for  once. 

"  He  decided  —  this  morning,"  said  Jack  at 
last;  and  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  lengthy 
newspaper  cutting  attached  to  a  pale  green  slip  : 
"  This  is  an  article  on  him  and  his  books,  that 
has   just    appeared    in    the   Parthenon.      What 


182  MY  LORD  DUKE 

wouldn't  I  give  to  lay  a  hold  of  the  brute  who 
wi'ote  it !  I  call  it  the  sort  of  thing  to  answer 
with  a  hiding.  It's  one  of  a  series  headed  '  Our 
Minor  Poets,'  which  Claude  says  has  been  bad 
enough  all  through ;  but  this  article  on  him  is 
the  worst  and  most  brutal  of  the  lot.  And  — 
and — and  old  Claude  took  it  to  heart,  of  course ; 
and  —  and  he's  run  up  to  town  for  the  day." 

"  Because  of  a  severe  criticism !  I  should 
have  thought  he  was  used  to  them  by  now. 
Poor  dear  Claude,  he  can  string  a  pretty  rhyme, 
but  he  never  was  a  poet.  And  you,  Jack  — 
since  you  insist  —  you  never  were  an  actor  — 
until  to-day !  " 

Jack  hung  his  head. 

"  You  don't  do  it  well  enough,  you  dear  fel- 
low," continued  Lady  Caroline  caressingly.  "  As 
if  you  could  impose  upon  me  !  You  must  first 
come  to  me  for  lessons.  Candidly  now :  what 
has  taken  him  up  to  town  in  such  a  hurry  ? 
The  same  thing  that  —  kept  you  awake  all 
night?" 

"  Candidly,  then,"  said  Jack,  raising  his  hag- 
gard face  doggedly,  "  it  was !  And  if  you'll 
come  out  upon  the  terrace  for  five  minutes  Fll 
tell  you  exactly  what's  wrong.  You  have  a  right 
to  know ;  and  I  can  trust  ^ou  not  to  let  it  go 
any  further  for  the  moment.    Even  if  I  couldn't, 


THE   INTERREGNUM  183 

I'd  have  to  tell  you  straight!  I  hate  keeping 
things  up  my  sleeve ;  I  can't  do  it ;  so  let  me 
make  a  clean  breast  of  the  whole  shoot,  Lady 
Caroline,  and  be  done  with  it  till  Claude  comes 
back." 

Lady  Caroline  took  a  discouraging  view  of 
the  situation.  The  Red  Marquis  had  been  capa- 
ble of  anything ;  related  though  they  had  been, 
she  could  not  help  telling  Jack  that  her  parents 
had  forbidden  her  to  dance  with  his  father  as  a 
young  girl.  This  might  be  painful  hearing,  but 
in  such  a  crisis  it  was  necessary  to  face  the 
possibilities  ;  and  Lady  Caroline,  drawing  a  little 
away  from  her  companion  in  order  to  see  how 
he  was  facing  them,  forgot  to  take  his  arm  any 
more  as  they  sauntered  in  the  sun.  She  under- 
took, however,  to  keep  the  matter  to  herself 
until  Claude's  return,  at  the  mention  of  whose 
name  she  begged  to  look  at  the  cutting  from 
the  Parthenon. 

"A  most  repulsive  article,"  her  mother  in- 
formed Olivia  after  breakfast,  but  not  until  she 
had  repeated  to  the  girl  the  entire  substance  of 
the  late  conversation  on  the  terrace.  "I  never 
read  anything  more  venomously  ill-bred  in  my 
life ;  and  so  untrue  !  To  say  he  is  no  poet  — 
our  Claude  !  But  we  who  know  him,  thank 
goodness  we  know  better.     It  is  the  true  poetry, 


184  MY  LORD  DUKE 

not  only  in  but  between  every  line,  that  dis- 
tinguishes dear  Claude  from  the  mere  stringers 
of  pretty  rhymes  of  whom  the  papers  sicken  one 
in  these  latter  days.  But  where  are  you  going, 
my  love?" 

"  To  get  ready  to  go  with  —  Jack." 

"  To  go  where,  pray  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  Devenholme,  as  we  arranged  last 
night,"  replied  Olivia,  with  spirit.  "  He  said  he 
would  drive  me  over ;  and  i/ou  said  '  how  sweet 
of  him,'  and  beamed  upon  us  both!  " 

Lady  Caroline  winced.  "You  impertinent 
chit !  "  she  cried  viciously ;  "  you  know  as  well 
as  I  do  that  what  I  have  told  you  alters  every- 
thing. Once  and  for  all,  Olivia,  I  forbid  you  to 
di'ive  into  Devenholme  with — with  —  with  — 
that  common  man  !  " 

"  Very  well ;  the  drive's  off,"  said  the  girl 
with  swift  decision ;  and  she  left  her  mother 
without  another  word. 

She  put  on  her  habit  and  went  straight  to 
Jack. 

"Do  you  mind  if  we  ride  into  Devenholme 
instead  of  driving?" 

"  Mind !     I  should  like  it  even  better." 

"  Then  suppose  we  go  to  the  stable-yard  and 
see  about  our  horses  ourselves ;  and  while  we 
are  there,  we  may  as  well  stay  and  start  by  the 


THE  INTERREGNUM  185 

back  road,  which  will  save  at  least  a  quarter  of 
a  mile." 

"  My  oath,"  said  Jack  without  further  provo- 
cation, "you  might  have  been  dragged  up  in 
the  bush!" 

"  I  wish  I  had  been  ! "  exclaimed  Olivia  bit- 
terly. He  could  not  understand  her  tone.  Nor 
did  he  ever  know  the  meaning  of  the  momentary 
fighting  glitter  in  the  brave  brown  eyes  of  the 
girl. 

He  rode  as  an  inveterate  bushman,  entirely 
on  the  snaffle,  with  inelegantly  short  stirrups 
and  a  regrettable  example  of  the  back-block 
bend ;  noi-  did  his  well-broken  hack  give  him 
a  chance  of  exhibiting  any  of  the  finer  qualities 
of  the  rough-riding  school.  But  indeed  for  the 
most  part  the  couple  sat  at  ease  in  their  saddles, 
while  the  horses  dawdled  with  loose  reins  and 
lazy  necks  in  the  cool  shadows  of  the  roadside 
trees.  By  mutual  consent  they  had  dispensed 
with  an  attendant  groom.  And  Olivia  had  never 
been  so  kind  to  Jack,  as  on  this  day  when  he  was 
under  so  black  a  cloud,  with  so  heavy  a  seal  upon 
his  lips. 

For  once  she  talked  to  him ;  as  a  rule  she 
liked  better  to  listen,  with  large  eyes  intent  and 
sympathetic  lips  apart  —  ever  ready  with  the 
helpful  word.     But  to-day  she  was  wishful  to 


186  MV  LORD  DUKE 

entertain,  to  take  him  out  of  himself,  to  console 
without  letting  him  suspect  that  she  knew  as 
much  as  he  had.  told  her  mother.  In  a  sense 
she  knew  more,  for  Lady  Caroline  had  duly- 
exaggerated  his  frank  confession  ;  and  the  girl's 
heart  bled  for  her  friend,  on  the  brink  of  a 
disillusion  without  parallel  in  her  knowledge. 
So  she  told  him  of  her  life  in  town  and  else- 
where ;  of  the  treadmill  round  of  toilsome  pleas- 
ure ;  of  the  penance  of  dressing  and  smiling 
with  unflagging  prettiness  ;  of  the  hollow  friend- 
ships and  hollower  loves  of  that  garish  life,  and 
the  unutterable  staleness  of  the  whole  conven- 
tional routine.  No  doubt  she  overstated  her 
case  ;  and  certainly  her  strictures  were  them- 
selves conventional ;  but  she  was  perfectly  aware 
of  both  facts,  and  would  have  been  exceedingly 
sorry  to  have  had  this  conversation  recorded 
against  her.  Olivia  had  a  healthy  horror  of 
superiority,  either  of  the  moral  or  the  intel- 
lectual order.  But  she  was  conducting  a  con- 
versation with  an  obvious  purpose ;  and  it  was 
only  when  he  told  her  again,  and  more  earnestly 
than  before,  how  suited  she  was  for  the  bush, 
that  she  proposed  the  canter  which  brought 
them  a  mile  nearer  Devenholme. 

"  Now  it's  you  to  play,"  she  told  him  as  they 
drew  rein ;  "  and  I  want  to  hear  some  of  your 


THE  INTERREGNUM  187 

adventures.  You've  never  told  us  any,  yet  you 
must  have  had  heaps.  So  far  I've  only  heard 
about  the  hut,  the  sheep,  the  homestead,  and 
your  old  boss." 

"  A  white  man !  "  cried  Jack.  "  I  wish  you 
knew  him." 

"  So  do  I ;  but  I  can  quite  picture  him,  and 
just  now  I  would  much  rather  hear  about  some 
of  your  own  adventures.     So  begin." 

Jack  laughed. 

"Really,  Miss  Sellwood,  I  never  had  one  in 
my  life ! " 

"  Then  really,  my  Lord  Duke,  I  can't  believe 
a  word " 

Jack  was  laughing  no  more. 

"  Don't  call  me  that,"  he  said.  "  It  would  be 
so  much  kinder  to  call  me  Jack  !  " 

She  had  forgotten.  Her  heart  smote  her  now, 
and  the  difficulty  was  to  conceal  her  unsuspected 
sympathy.  So  she  insisted  on  his  calling  her 
Olivia,  to  conclude  the  bargain.  And  the  double 
innovation  made  them  both  so  self-conscious,  that 
she  forgot  her  thirst  for  his  adventures,  while 
he  brooded  heavily  upon  his  bitter-sweet  advance- 
ment won  too  late. 

So  they  came  into  Devenholme  as  the  sun 
was  shining  fore  and  aft  along  the  quaint  old 
English   streets.     And  in  the  town,  where   he 


188  ^^Y  LORD  DUKE 

was  well  enough  known  by  this  time,  poor  Jack 
was  received  with  a  cruel  consideration  that 
would  have  hurt  him  even  more  than  it  did 
had  he  dreamt  how  it  affected  his  companion. 
The  tender-hearted  girl  was  inexpressibly  grieved, 
and  never  more  than  when  the  jeweller  mentioned 
a  hundred  guineas  as  the  price  of  the  ring  to  be 
changed ;  indeed,  the  situation  in  the  jeweller's 
shop  was  perilously  charged  with  hidden  emo- 
tions. In  this  terribly  equivocal  position,  Jack 
could  not  press  upon  Olivia  things  for  which  he 
might  never  be  able  to  pay;  neither  could  Olivia 
now  refuse  any  present  at  all,  nor  yet  lead  him 
as  low  as  she  would  have  liked  in  the  price,  for 
fear  of  revealing  her  illicit  knowledge.  So  at 
last  they  hit  upon  a  curb-bracelet  that  fastened 
with  a  tiny  padlock.  It  cost  but  forty-five 
shillings.  And  when  he  had  locked  it  upon  her 
right  wrist,  he  pocketed  the  key  without  a  re- 
mark, then  paid  ready  money  and  left  the  shop 
in  a  throbbing  agony  of  shame.  The  poor  jewel- 
ler stood  bowing  them  out  with  the  hundred- 
guinea  ring  still  in  his  hand. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

JACK  AND   HIS    MASTER 

It  was  necessary  to  bait  the  horses;  it  was 
equally  essential  for  the  pair  themselves  to  have 
something  to  eat.  So  they  rode  under  the  olden 
arch  of  the  oak-lined  Falcon,  and  it  was  "  your 
Grace  "  at  every  step,  with  ironic  iteration  very 
hard  for  either  of  them  to  bear  without  a  word 
to  the  other.  They  dismounted  therefore  with 
the  less  delay  ;  and  Olivia  turned  her  back  upon 
the  coffee-room  window,  and  on  an  elderly,  bald, 
well-dressed  man,  whose  cool  fixed  stare  made 
the  girl  extremely  angry,  when  Jack  at  her  side 
gave  a  shout  of  delight. 

"  So  help  me  never  !  it's  the  boss  himself!  " 
Olivia  turned,  and  there  was  the  objectionable 
old  fellow  in  the  window  smiling  and  waving 
to  her  enchanted  companion.  And  this  was  the 
man  of  whom  she  had  heard  so  often  !  She  did 
not  stop  to  consider  how  he  came  to  be  here  ;  the 
back-blockers  were  already  at  explanations,  but 
Olivia  was  not  listening.     She  was  thinking  of 

189 


190  MY  LORD   DUKE 

the  bearded,  jovial,  hearty  squatter  of  her  im- 
agination ;  and  she  was  glancing  askance  at  the 
massive  chin  and  forehead,  and  at  the  white 
moustache  cropped  close  over  the  bad  mouth  of 
the  real  man. 

"  Mr.  Dalrymple  —  my  old  boss  —  Miss  Sell- 
wood  !  "  shouted  Jack,  introducing  them  with 
a  wealth  of  pantomime.  "  We're  coming  up  to 
lunch  with  you,  sir;  that  is,  you're  to  lunch 
with  me  ;  it's  my  shout !  " 

And  poor  Olivia  found  herself  swept  off  her 
feet,  as  it  were,  into  the  presence  of  a  man 
whom  all  her  instincts  had  pronounced  odious 
at  sight. 

But  the  higher  court  of  the  girl's  intellect 
reversed  this  judgment  on  the  appeal  of  her 
trained  perceptions.  The  elderly  squatter  was 
not  after  all  a  man  to  be  summed  up  at  a  glance 
or  in  a  word :  his  undoubted  assurance  was  tem- 
pered and  redeemed  by  so  many  graces  of  manner 
and  address  as  to  upset  entirely  the  girl's  precon- 
ceptions of  his  class.  At  table  he  treated  her 
with  a  princely  courtesy,  imperceptibly  includ- 
ing her  in  a  conversation  which  poor  Jack  would 
have  conducted  very  differently  if  left  to  himself. 
After  the  first  few  minutes,  indeed,  Olivia  could 
see  but  two  faults  in  the  squatter ;  the  first  was 
the  fierce  light  his  charming  manners  reflected 


JACK  AND   HIS   MASTER  191 

on  those  of  Jack ;  and  the  second  was  a  mouth 
which  made  the  girl  regret  the  austere  cut 
of  his  moustache  whenever  she  looked  at  Mr. 
Dairy  mple. 

"  So  you  left  before  shearing,  sir ! "  cried  Jack, 
who  was  grossly  eager  for  all  station  news.  "  1 
wonder  you  did  that.  They  must  be  in  the  thick 
of  it  now  !  " 

"They  were  to  begin  on  the  fifth  of  this  month. 
The  shearing,  Miss  Sellwood,  is  the  one  divine, 
far-off  event  towards  which  the  whole  sheep- 
station  moves,"  added  Mr.  Dalrymple,  with  a 
glibness  worthy  of  Claude  Lafont. 

"And  don't  you  forget  the  lamb-marking," 
chimed  in  Jack.  "  I  hope  it  was  a  good  lamb- 
ing this  year,  sir  ?  " 

"  Seventy-nine  per  cent.,"  replied  Dalrymple. 
"  I'm  afraid  that's  Greek  to  you,  Miss  Sellwood 
—  and  perhaps  better  so." 

"  You  see,  I'm  as  keen  as  ever  on  the  old 
blocks ! "  cried  Jack.  It  was  a  superfluous 
boast. 

"  So  I  do  see ;  and  I  must  say,  Jack,  you  sur- 
prise me.  Do  you  notice  how  he  '  sirs '  me, 
Miss  Sellwood?  I  was  on  my  way  to  pay 
homage  to  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's,  not  to 
receive  it  from  Happy  Jack  of  Carara  !  " 

"  Do  you  often  come  over  to  England,  Mr. 


192  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Dalryraple  ? "  asked  Olivia  quickly.  For  the 
girl  had  seen  the  spasm  in  Jack's  face,  and  she 
knew  how  the  anaesthetic  of  this  happy  en- 
counter had  exhaled  with  the  squatter's  last 
speech. 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  was  the  reply.  "  I  haven't 
been  home  for  more  years  than  I  care  to  count ; 
and  the  chances  are  that  I  shouldn't  be  here 
now  but  for  our  friend  the  Duke.  He  unsettled 
me.  You  see.  Miss  Sellwood,  how  jealous  are 
the  hearts  of  men !  I  had  no  inheritance  to 
come  home  to ;  but  I  had  my  native  land,  and 
here  I  am." 

"  And  you  have  friends  in  Devenholme  ?  " 

"  I  have  one  friend ;  I  wish  that  I  dared  say  ■ 
two,"  replied  the  squatter,  looking  from  Jack  to 
Olivia  in  his  most  engaging  manner.  "  No,  to 
tell  you  frankly,  I  was  on  a  little  inquisitive 
pilgrimage  to  Maske  Towers.  I  did  not  wait 
for  an  invitation,  for  I  knew  that  I  should  bring 
my  own  welcome  with  me." 

"  Of  course,  of  course  ;  come  out  to-morrow!" 
exclaimed  Jack  nervously.  "  I'll  send  in  for 
you,  and  you  must  stay  as  long  as  ever  you  can. 
If  only  I'd  driven  in,  as  I  meant  to,  we'd  have 
taken  you  back  with  us.  Yet  on  the  whole  to- 
morrow will  be  best ;  you  must  give  us  time  to 
do  you  well,  you  know,  Mr.  Dalrymple.     It'll 


JACK  AND  HIS  MASTER  193 

be  a  proud  day  for  me !  I  little  expected  to 
live  to  entertain  my  own  boss ! " 

Indeed,  his  pride  was  genuine  enough,  and 
truly  characteristic  of  the  man ;  but  at  the  back 
of  it  there  was  a  great  uneasiness  wliich  did  not 
escape  the  clear,  light  eye  of  Dalrymple.  Not 
that  the  squatter  betrayed  his  prescience  by 
word  or  sign ;  on  the  contrary,  he  drank  Jack's 
healtli.  in  the  champagne  provided  by  him,  and 
included  Olivia's  name  in  a  very  graceful  speech. 
But  Jack  drank  nothing  at  all ;  and  having  re- 
duced his  roll  to  a  heap  of  crumbs,  he  was  now 
employed  in  converting  the  crumbs  into  a  pile 
of  pellets. 

Olivia  pitied  his  condition ;  that  tiemulous 
brown  hand,  with  the  great  bush  freckles  still 
showing  at  the  gnarled  finger-roots,  touched  her 
inexpressibly  as  it  lay  fidgeting  on  the  white 
table-cloth.  She  strained  every  nerve  to  keep 
the  squatter  engaged  and  unobservant ;  and  she 
found  herself  fluctuating,  in  a  rather  irritating 
manner,  between  her  first  instinctive  antipathy 
and  her  later  liking  for  the  man.  He  was  ex- 
tremely nice  to  her;  he  had  an  obvious  kind- 
ness for  poor  Jack;  and  she  apprehended  a 
personal  magnetism,  a  unique  individuality, 
quite  powerful  enough  to  account  for  Jack's 
devotion  to  him.  She  felt  the  influence  herself, 
o 


194  MY  LORD   DUKE 

Yet  there  was  something  —  she  could  not  say 
what. 

The  way  in  which  her  last  vague  prejudice 
was  removed,  however,  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion upon  Olivia,  besides  giving  her  a  startling 
glimpse  of  her  own  feelings.  And  it  all  came 
of  a  casual  remark  of  Dalrymple's,  in  elucida- 
tion of  his  prompt  expedition  to  the  district,  to 
the  effect  that  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  had 
once  saved  his  life. 

"  Your  life  !  "  cried  Olivia,  while  Jack  ceased 
meddling  with  his  bread. 

"To  be  sure.  Is  it  possible  he  has  never  told 
you  the  story  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word  of  it !  And  only  this  morning, 
as  we  rode  in,  I  asked  him  if  he  had  never  had 
any  adventures ! " 

Her  face  was  a  flushed  reproach. 

"I'd  forgotten  that  one,"  said  Jack  sheepishly. 
"I  really  had.  It's  so  long  ago;  and  it  wasn't 
much  when  you  come " 

"Not  much!"  interjected  Dalrymple.  "I 
should  be  very  sorry  to  find  myself  in  such  a 
tight  place  again !  It's  some  thirteen  years  ago. 
Miss  Sellwood.  I  was  thinking  of  taking  up  some 
cattle  country  in  the  unfenced  part  of  Queens- 
land. I  had  gone  up  to  have  a  look  at  the 
place,  and  the  blacks  attacked  us  while  I  was 


JACK   AND  HIS  MASTER  195 

there.  We  were  three  strong  in  an  iron  store  ; 
the  owner,  a  stray  shearer,  and  myself.  The 
shearer  had  his  horse  hung  up  outside ;  he  could 
have  got  away  quite  easily  in  the  beginning ; 
but  our  horses  were  all  turned  out,  and  he 
wouldn't  leave  us.  So  we  dragged  his  horse 
inside,  and  we  set  to  work  to  defend  the  store." 

"  I  know  that  shearer !  "  cried  Olivia  proudly. 
"Yet  he  hangs  his  head!  Oh,  go  on,  Mr. 
Dalrymple,  go  on  !  " 

"  From  daybreak  to  sundown,"  continued  the 
squatter,  "  we  defended  ourselves  with  a  Win- 
chester, a  double-barrelled  shot-gun,  and  an  old 
muzzle-loading  rifle.  The  blacks  came  on  by 
the  score,  but  they  couldn't  get  in,  and  they 
couldn't  set  fire  to  the  corrugated  iron.  It  was 
riddled  like  a  sieve,  and  each  of  us  three  had  a 
hole  in  him  too ;  but  there  was  a  wall  of  dead 
blacks  up  against  the  iron  outside,  and  they 
were  as  good  as  sandbags.  We  should  have 
beaten  the  fellows  off  before  midnight  if  our 
powder  had  held  out.  It  didn't;  so  I  assure 
you  we  shook  hands,  and  were  going  to  blow 
up  the  place  with  a  twenty-gallon  tin  of  petro- 
leum, that  was  luckily  inside,  when  our  friend 
the  shearer  came  out  with  an  idea.  His  horse 
had  a  ball  in  its  body  and  was  screaming  like  a 
woman,  so  that  it  was  no  use.      I  recollect  we 


196  ^^y  LORD  DUKE 

put  it  out  of  its  pain  with  our  last  charge.  But 
there  was  long  dry  grass  all  round  up  to  within 
some  fifteen  yards  of  the  store ;  and  after  dark 
the  shearer  ran  out  three  or  four  times  with  a 
bucket  of  petroleum,  and  once  with  a  box  of 
matches.  The  last  time  but  one  the  blacks  saw 
him.  They  had  surrounded  the  place  at  a  pretty 
respectful  radius,  and  they  were  having  what  we 
call  a  spell ;  but  they  saw  him  the  last  time  but 
one.  And  when  he  went  out  again  and  struck 
his  matches  they  had  something  to  aim  at. 
Well,  his  first  match  went  out,  and  there  was  a 
sheaf  of  spears  sticking  in  the  sand  and  three 
new  holes  through  the  house.  We  waited;  not 
another  thing  could  we  see.  We  didn't  know 
whether  he  was  dead  or  alive,  and  we  heard  the 
blacks  starting-  to  rush  us.  But  we  also  heard 
the  scratch  of  a  second  match ;  in  another  in- 
stant the  thing  flared  up  like  a  circular  lamp  — 
and  us  in  the  middle  of  the  burner !  The  coun- 
try was  burnt  black  for  miles  all  round,  and  we 
ourselves  had  a  hot  time  of  it,  Miss  Sell  wood ;  but 
here  are  two  of  us,  at  all  events,  to  tell  the  tale." 
Olivia  bowed  to  him ;  she  could  not  speak. 
Then  for  a  little  she  turned  her  wet  eyes,  wet 
with  enthusiasm,  upon  the  awkward  hero  of  the 
tale.  And  without  more  words  the  party  broke 
up. 


JACK  AND  HIS  MASTER  197 

Jack  was  still  remonstrating  with  Dairy mple 
when  the  girl  rejoined  them  outside. 

"  Come  now !  "  she  said.  "  Was  it  true,  or 
wasn't  it?" 

"  More  or  less,"  admitted  Jack. 

"Was  it  true  about  the  horse  and  the  petro- 
leum and  the  spears  ?  " 

He  confessed  that  it  was,  but  discredited 
his  rnemory  as  a  clumsy  qualification.  Olivia 
turned  away  from  him,  and  said  no  more  until 
she  was  in  her  saddle  ;  then  while  Jack  was 
mounting  she  rode  up  to  the  squatter. 

"I  am  truly  grateful  to  you,  Mr.  Dalrymple," 
she  said;  "and  all  the  others  will  be  as  grateful 
as  I  am,  and  will  look  forward  to  your  visit. 
But  for  you,  we  might  all  have  gone  on  being 
entertained  by  a  hero  unawares.  You  must  tell 
us  more.  Meanwhile  I  for  one  can  thank  you 
most  heartily ! " 

And  she  leant  over  and  frankly  pressed  his 
hand;  but  said  very  little  all  the  long  ride 
home.  Jack  assured  her,  however,  that  he  had 
never  thought  of  his  wound  for  years,  although 
he  must  have  a  bullet  in  him  somewhere  to  that 
day ;  he  also  told  her  that  the  fight  with  the 
blacks  had  been  the  beginning  of  his  connection 
with  his  old  boss,  whose  service  he  had  never 
left  until  the  end.     And  for  miles  he  spoke  of 


198  MY  LORD  DUKE 

no  one  else;  he  was  so  grateful  to  Olivia  for 
liking  his  friend,  and  he  had  so  many  stories 
of  Dalrymple  to  set  as  well  as  he  could  against 
that  one  of  himself.  So  the  ride  drew  to  an 
end  in  the  golden  afternoon,  with  never  a  tender 
word  between  the  pair,  though  his  heart  was  as 
full  as  hers ;  but  she  could  not  speak ;  and  the 
great  seal  lay  yet  upon  his  lips. 


CHAPTER   XV 

END   OF   THE   INTERREGNUM 

Nobody  was  about  when  they  dismounted,  so 
Jack  himself  led  the  horses  back  to  the  stables, 
while  Olivia  gathered  up  her  habit  and  scaled 
the  steps.  The  stable  clock  struck  five  as  the 
former  was  returning  by  way  of  the  shrubbery ; 
another  seven  hours,  and  Claude  would  come 
home  with  the  news.  For  such  an  issue,  it  was 
still  an  eternity  to  wait.  But  Jack  felt  that  the 
suspense  would  be  easily  endurable  so  long  as 
he  could  have  sight  and  speech  of  Olivia  Sell- 
wood  ;  without  her,  even  for  these  few  minutes, 
it  was  hardly  to  be  borne. 

Yet  this  stage  of  his  ordeal  was  made  up  of 
such  minutes.  He  returned  to  desolate  rooms. 
Olivia  had  disappeared ;  nor  could  he  pitch 
upon  a  soul  to  tell  him  where  she  was.  Door 
after  door  was  thrown  open  in  vain ;  each  pre- 
sented an  empty  void  to  his  exacting  eyes.  He 
ran  outside  and  stood  listening  on  the  terrace. 

And  there,  through  an  open  upper  window  he 

199 


200  MY  LORD  DUKE 

heard  a  raised  voice  railing,  which  he  could 
not  but  recognise  as  that  of  Lady  Caroline. 
Her  words  were  indistinguishable.  But  as 
Jack  looked  aloft  for  the  window,  one  was  pas- 
sionately shut,  and  he  neither  heard  nor  saw 
any  more. 

The  first  persons  he  ultimately  encountered 
were  Mr.  Sellwood  and  the  agent.  They  had 
golf-clubs  in  their  hands  and  wholesome  sweat 
upon  their  brows.  The  agent  treated  Jack  as 
usual;  the  Home  Secretary  did  not.  He  stated 
that  he  had  at  last  won  a  round ;  but  his  manner 
was  singularly  free  from  exultation ;  indeed,  it 
was  quite  awkward,  as  though  perfect  cordial- 
ity had  suddenly  become  a  difficult  matter,  and 
he  was  ashamed  to  find  it  so.  Certainly  there 
had  been  no  difficulty  of  the  kind  before.  And 
Jack  noted  the  change,  but  was  too  honourable 
himself  to  suspect  the  cause. 

He  next  fell  in  with  the  Frekes.  This  ex- 
cellent couple  loved  Jack  for  his  goodness  to 
their  children,  who  were  not  universally  popular. 
They  now  carried  him  off  to  tea  in  the  nursery, 
where  he  stayed  until  it  was  time  to  dress  for 
dinner.  Jack  liked  the  children ;  it  was  not 
his  fault  that  they  were  so  seldom  in  evidence. 
They  were  obviously  spoilt;  but  Jack  thought 
they  were  taken  too  seriously  by  all  but  their 


END   OF   THE  INTERREGNUM         201 

parents,  who  certainly  did  not  take  them  seriously 
enough.  So  he  had  many  a  romp  with  the  little 
outcasts,  but  never  a  wilder  one  than  this  after- 
noon, for  the  children  took  him  out  of  himself. 
Their  society,  had  he  but  known  it,  was  even 
better  for  him  in  the  circumstances  than  that  of 
Olivia  herself;  it  was  almost  as  good  as  another 
meeting  with  Dairy m pie  of  Carara.  He  rose  at 
length  from  under  his  oppressors,  dusty,  dis- 
hevelled and  perspiring,  but  for  the  moment  as 
light-hearted  as  themselves.  And  there  were 
the  grave,  sympathetic  eyes  of  the  parents  rest- 
ing sadly  upon  him  to  recall  his  trouble.  Why 
should  they  look  sad  or  sympathetic?  Every- 
body had  changed  towards  him  ;  this  was  the 
difference  in  the  Frekes.  Could  they  have  di- 
vined the  truth?  No  suspicion  of  a  broken  con- 
fidence entered  his  head ;  yet  it  was  sufficiently 
puzzled  as  he  dressed,  with  unusual  care,  to 
make  a  creditable  last  appearance  at  the  head 
of  the  table  which  would  prove  never  to  have 
been  his  at  all.  He  had  quite  made  up  his 
mind  to  that;  he  found  it  appreciably  harder 
to  reconcile  himself  to  the  keen  disappointment 
which  awaited  him  in  the  dining-room. 

Olivia  was  not  coming  down. 

"  She  has  knocked  herself  up,"  explained 
Lady  Caroline  tersely.      "  So  would  any  girl 


202  MY  LORD  DUKE 

—  not  an  Australian  —  who  rode  so  far  on  such 
a  day.    Your  Grace  might  have  known  better  !  " 

Jack  stared  at  her  like  a  wounded  stag ;  then 
he  uttered  an  abject  apology,  for  which,  how- 
ever, he  obtained  no  sort  of  a  receipt.  Lady 
Caroline  had  turned  and  was  talking  to  some 
one  else.  But  it  was  not  this  that  cut  him  to 
the  heart;  it  was  her  mode  of  addressing  him, 
after  their  conversation  of  the  early  morning. 

Later  in  the  evening  he  remembered  that  rail- 
ing voice  and  the  shutting  of  the  window  up- 
stairs; and  with  a  burning  indignation  he 
divined,  all  at  once,  who  it  was  that  had  been 
so  spoken  to,  and  why,  with  the  true  cause 
of  Olivia's  indisposition. 

This  was  in  the  darkness  of  his  hut,  with  Liv- 
ingstone asleep  in  his  lap.  In  another  minute 
Jack  was  striding  through  the  pines,  on  his 
way  to  the  drawing-room  for  a  few  plain  words 
with  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood.  He  never  had 
them.  Lady  Caroline  was  gone  to  bed.  It  was 
almost  eleven ;  within  an  hour  Claude  would  be 
back,  and  a  moral  certainty  become  an  absolute 
fact.  Hunt's  tale  was  true.  Had  it  been  other- 
wise, Claude  would  have  telegraphed.  He  had 
left,  indeed,  on  the  distinct  understanding  that 
he  sliould  do  no  such  thing ;  his  mission  was  to 
be  kept  a  secret,  and  a  telegram  might  excite 


END   OF  THE   INTERREGNUM         203 

suspicion ;  yet  even  so  he  would  have  sent  one 
had  all  been  well.  Jack  was  sure  of  it ;  his  ex- 
hausted spirit  had  surrendered  utterly  to  an 
ineluctable  despair. 

In  this  humour  he  sought  the  Poet's  Corner, 
and  found  its  two  hahltuSs  furtively  chuckling 
over  some  newspaper.  Their  gaiety  cut  him 
to  the  quick.     Yet  he  longed  to  enter  into  it. 

"What's  the  joke?"  he  asked.  "I  want 
something  to  make  me  laugh !  " 

"This  wouldn't,"  replied  Edmund  Stubbs. 
"It's  not  benign  enough  for  you." 

"  It's  only  a  piece  of  smart  scribbling,"  ex- 
plained Llewellyn,  lighting  a  fresh  cigarette  with 
the  stump  of  the  last. 

Jack  was  behind  them  ;  quite  innocently  he 
put  his  head  between  theirs  and  looked  for 
himself.  The  paper  was  the  Partheyion.  There 
was  but  one  article  on  the  open  page.  It  was 
headed  — 

Our  Minor  Poets. 

XXVIII.     Mr.  Claude  Lafont. 

"  So  that  amuses  you  ?  "  said  Jack  at  last. 
"  Quite,"  said  Llewellyn. 
"  You  think  it  just,  eh  ?  " 
"Oh,  hang  justice!     It's  awfully  nice  copy. 
That's   all   it   has   any   right   to   be.      Justice 


204  MY  LORD  DUKE 

doesn't  matter  a  hang ;  the  Parthenon's  not 
written  for  the  virtuous  shopkeeper ;  it  isn't 
meant  to  appeal  to  the  Nonconformist  Con- 
science." 

"  Besides,  the  article  is  just,"  protested  Stubbs. 
"  We  know  what  Lafont  is,  between  ourselves ; 
he's  an  excellent  chap,  but  his  poetry  —  save 
the  mark !  —  would  hardly  impose  on  Clap- 
ham  and  Wandsworth.  His  manner's  cheap 
enough,  but  his  matter  goes  one  cheaper  ;  it's 
the  sort  of  thing  for  which  there  should  be  no 
charge."     Stubbs  drained  his  glass. 

Jack  was  blazing. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  '  cheap,' " 
he  cried ;  "  but  from  reading  that  article,  which 
I  happen  to  have  seen  before,  I  should  call 
it  a  jolly  '  cheap '  word.  I  don't  set  up  to 
be  a  clever  man.  I  only  know  what  I  like, 
and  I  like  everything  of  Claude's  that  —  that 
I  can  understand.  But  even  if  I  didn't  I 
should  be  sorry  to  go  about  saying  so  in  his 
own  house ! " 

"  His  own  house  ! "  exclaimed  the  Impression- 
ist. 

"  We  didn't  know  it  was  his,"  said  Stubbs. 

"  What's  mine  is  Claude's,"  replied  Jack, 
colouring.  "  It  was  before  I  turned  up,  and  it 
will  be  again  when  —  whenever  I  peg  out." 


END   OF   THE   INTERREGNUM         205 

With  that  he  was  gone. 

"  Sounds  suicidal,"  remarked  Llewellyn. 

"Or  celibate,"  said  Stubbs,  replenishing  his 

glass. 

"Poor  beast!  "  concluded  the  artist. 

Here  their  host  returned. 

"I'm  very  sorry,  you  fellows,"  said  he,  with 
absurd  humility.  "  I'm  all  off  colour  to-night, 
and  I  know  I've  made  a  rude  ruffian  of  myself. 
Some  of  these  days  you'll  understand;  mean- 
time will  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  replied  Llewel- 
lyn. 

"  We'll  say  no  more  about  it,"  said  Stubbs. 

And  Jack  shook  hands  with  them  both  before 
leaving  them  for  good  ;  then  he  hurried  through 
the  length  of  the  building  to  the  great  conserva- 
tory, where  Stebbings  was  putting  out  the  lights. 
The  conservatory  was  at  that  extreme  of  the 
Towers  which  the  dogcart  would  pass  first. 
Here,  too,  was  room  and  air  for  a  man  distraught. 
So  Jack  called  out  to  Stebbings  to  leave  the 
lights  on  longer. 

"  And  light  some  more,"  he  added  suddenly. 
"  Light  up  every  lamp  in  the  place !  I  shall 
stay  here  until  Mr.  Lafont  returns." 

"  Yes,  your  Grace." 

"  Stebbings !  " 


206  ^^Y  LORD  DUKE 

"  Your  Grace  ?  " 

"  For  God's  sake  don't  call  me  that  again ! 
I  —  I'm  not  used  to  it,  Stebbings  —  any  more 
than  you're  used  to  me,"  added  Jack  inconse- 
quently  ;  and  he  fled  into  the  grounds  until  the 
old  man  should  be  gone. 

The  night  was  very  dark  and  heavy ;  clouds 
obscured  the  moon,  shedding  a  fine  rain  softly 
upon  drive  and  terrace.  Jack  raised  his  face, 
and  a  grateful  sprinkling  cooled  its  fever.  He 
longed  for  a  far  heavier  fall,  with  the  ancient 
longing  of  those  prehistoric  daj^s  when  a  grey 
sky  and  an  honest  wetting  were  the  rarest  joys 
in  life.  Could  he  indeed  return  to  that  rough 
routine  after  all  these  weeks  of  aristocratic  ease  ? 
The  bushman  might  exchange  his  wideawake 
for  a  coronet,  but  could  the  peer  go  back  to 
the  bush  ?  Time  must  show.  The  only  ques- 
tion was  whether  Hunt  had  lied  or  told  the 
truth  ;  and  the  answer  could  not  be  much  longer 
delayed.  Already  it  was  half-past  eleven  ;  tliere 
was  the  clang  creeping  lazily  through  the  night, 
round  quarter  of  a  mile  of  intervening  wall,  and 
half  a  hundred  angles. 

He  would  have  gone  down  the  drive  to  meet 
the  dogcart ;  but  the  night  was  too  dark  ;  and 
beside  him  blazed  the  great  conservatory  like  a 
palace  of  fire.     He  entered  it  again,  and  now  he 


END   OF   THE   INTERREGNUM        207 

had  it  to  himself;  the  statues  among  the  tree- 
ferns  were  his  only  companions.  But  in  his 
absence  old  Stebbings  had  placed  a  little  table 
with  brandy  and  soda-water  set  out  upon  it ;  even 
the  butler  had  seen  and  pitied  his  condition. 

The  third  quarter  struck.  The  sound  just 
carried  to  the  conservatory,  for  now  the  rain 
was  heavier,  and  the  rattle  overheard  warred 
successfully  against  all  other  noises.  The  dog- 
cart might  drive  by  without  Jack's  hearing  it. 
The  suspense  was  horrible,  but  a  surprise  would 
be  more  horrible  still.  He  was  becoming  un- 
strung ;  why  should  he  not  tune  himself  up 
with  the  brandy?  His  voluntary  teetotalism 
was  too  absurd ;  he  had  made  no  promise,  taken 
no  pledge,  but  only  a  private  pride  in  his  self-dis- 
cipline as  it  had  gone  on  from  day  to  day.  Not 
a  drop  had  he  touched  since  that  afternoon  at 
Dover  so  long,  so  long  ago !  As  he  reckoned 
up  the  time,  the  forgotten  lust  possessed  him  ; 
it  had  been  even  so  on  Carara,  when  the  periodi- 
cal need  of  a  cheque  would  first  steal  over  his 
lonely  spirit.  He  thought  now  of  those  occa- 
sions and  their  results ;  he  knew  himself  of 
old ;  but  he  was  no  longer  the  same  man  — 
resistance  would  be  ridiculous  now.  He  took 
another  look  at  the  night;  then  he  filled  a  wine- 
glass with   raw  brandy  —  raised   it  —  and   im- 


208  MY  LORD  DUKE 

pulsively  dashed  the  whole  upon  the  marble  flags. 
The  brandy  widened  in  a  shallow  amber  flood ; 
the  broken  glass  lay  glittering  under  the  lamps  ; 
and  in  Jack's  ears  the  patter  of  the  rain  (which 
had  never  abated)  broke  out  anew. 

He  could  not  account  for  his  act ;  he  did  not 
know  it  for  the  culmination  of  a  highly  nervous 
condition  induced  by  the  twenty-four  sleepless 
hours  of  unrelieved  suspense.  It  was  neither 
more  nor  less,  and  yet  it  enabled  him  to  hold  up 
his  head  once  more.  And  as  he  did  so,  there  — 
through  the  swimming  crystal  walls  —  between 
a  palm-tree  and  a  Norfolk  Island  pine  —  were 
the  two  red  eyes  of  the  dogcart  dilating  in  the 
dark. 

The  great  moment  had  come,  and  it  was  not 
so  great  after  all.  Jack's  little  outburst  had  left 
him  strangely  calm.  He  went  to  the  door  and 
hailed  the  dogcart  in  a  loud,  cheery  voice.  The 
lamps  stopped.  Claude  came  within  range  of 
those  in  the  conservatory,  and  shook  himself  on 
the  steps.  Then  he  entered,  looking  unusually 
healthy,  but  dripping  still. 

"  A  brute  of  a  night  for  you,"  said  Jack  apolo- 
getically. "  Take  off  that  coat,  and  have  some 
brandy.     Mind  where  you  go.     I've  had  a  spill." 

This  was  the  reaction.     Claude  understood. 

"  Then  you  don't  want  to  hear  the  news  ?  " 


END   OF  THE  INTERREGNUM        209 

"  I  know  it.     I've  known  it  for  liours." 

"  That  I  can  see  you  haven't.  Listen  to  me. 
There  was  no  English  marriage.  Give  me  your 
hand!" 

It  was  limp  and  cold. 

"  You  don't  believe  me! "  said  Claude  severely. 

Jack  subsided  in  a  chair. 

"  I  can't,"  he  whispered.     "  I  can't." 

"  You  soon  will.  I  wish  to  goodness  I'd  taken 
you  with  me  to-day.  Now  listen :  there  was 
some  truth  in  Hunt's  story,  but  more  lies.  The 
marriage  was  a  lie.  There  never  was  a  mar- 
riacre.  There  was  somethinor  rather  worse  at 
the  time,  but  a  good  deal  better  now.  My 
grandfather  patched  it  up,  exactly  as  I  thought. 
He  packed  my  uncle  out  to  Australia,  and  he 
settled  two  hundred  a  year  on  the  Hunts,  on 
the  single  condition  of  '  perpetual  silence  as  to 
the  connection  between  the  two  families.'  I've 
seen  the  covenant,  and  those  are  the  very  words. 
The  condition  has  been  broken  after  all  these 
years.     And  the  Hunts'  income  stops  to-day." 

Jack  had  roused  himself  a  little ;  he  was  no 
longer  apathetic,  but  neither  was  he  yet  con- 
vinced. 

"  It  seems  a  lot  of  money  to  hush  up  so  small 
a  matter,"  he  objected.  "  Are  they  sure  there 
was  no  more  in  it  than  that  ?  " 


210  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  Maitland  and  Cripps  ?  Perfectly  sure ; 
they've  been  paying  that  money  for  nearly 
forty  years,  and  there's  never  been  a  hint  at  a 
marriage  until  now.  Certainly  there's  none  in 
the  settlement.  But  to  make  assurance  surer, 
young  Maitland  took  a  cab  and  drove  oif  to  see 
his  father  —  who  was  a  partner  in  '53,  but  has 
since  retired  —  about  the  whole  matter.  And  I 
took  another  cab,  and  drove  straight  to  the  old 
parish  church  facing  the  river  at  Chelsea.  I 
found  the  clerk,  and  he  showed  me  the  marriage 
register,  but  there  was  no  such  marriage  on 
that  date  (or  any  other)  in  that  church  ;  so  why 
in  any?  One  lie  means  dozens.  Surely  you'll 
agree  with  me  there?  " 

"  I  must ;  it's  only  the  money  that  sticks  with 
me.  It  seems  such  a  case  of  paying  through  the 
nose.      But  what  had  old  Maitland  to  say?" 

"  Everything,"  cried  Claude.  "  He  remem- 
bered the  whole  business  perfectly,  and  even 
saying  to  my  grandfather  much  what  you're  say- 
ing to  me  now.  But  I've  told  you  the  kind  of 
man  the  old  Duke  was;  he  was  a  purist  of  the 
purists,  besides  being  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  and  a 
scandal  so  near  home  hit  him,  as  you  would  say, 
in  both  eyes  at  once.  He  considered  he  got 
good  value  for  his  money  when  he  hushed  it  up. 
They  showed  me  a  letter  in  which  he  said  as 


END   OF  THE   INTERREGNUM  211 

much.  Young  Maitland  unearthed  it  after  he 
had  seen  his  father,  and  with  it  others  of  a  later 
date,  in  which  the  Duke  refused  to  revoke  or  even 
to  curtail  the  allowance  on  the  woman's  death. 
That's  all ;  but  surely  it's  conclusive  enough ! 
Here  we  have  a  first-class  firm  of  solicitors  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  clumsy  scoundrel  on  the 
other.  Which  do  you  believe?  By  the  way, 
they're  anxious  to  prosecute  Hunt  on  all  sorts 
of  grounds  if  you'll  let  them." 

"  I  won't." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to,"  said  Claude. 

"  No,  no ;  too  much  mud  has  been  stirred  up 
already  ;  we'll  let  it  rest  for  a  bit." 

"  But  surely  you'll  get  rid  of  the  Hunts  after 
this?" 

"  I'll  see." 

Claude  was  disappointed ;  he  had  looked  for 
a  different  reception  of  his  news. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you're  not  convinced 
yet?"  he  cried. 

"  No,"  said  Jack,  "  I'm  quite  satisfied  now ; 
you  hem  the  thing  in  on  every  side.  But  I  wish 
to  goodness  all  this  had  never  happened !  " 

"  So  do  we  all ;  but  if  there  was  a  doubt, 
surely  it  was  best  to  set  it  at  rest  ?  If  I  were 
you,  I  should  feel  as  one  does  after  a  bad  dream." 

Jack  was  on  his  feet. 


212  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  My  dear  old  mate,"  lie  cried,  "  and  so  I  do ! 
But  I'm  only  half  woke  up ;  that's  what's  the 
matter  with  me,  and  you  must  give  me  time  to 
pull  myself  together.  You  don't  know  what  a 
day  I've  had;  you  never  will  know.  And  you 
—  my  meat's  your  poison,  and  3^et  you've  been 
doing  all  this  for  me  just  as  if  it  was  the  other 
way  round ;  and  not  a  word  of  thanks  at  the 
end  of  it.  Claude  —  old  man  —  forgive  me  ! 
Thanks  won't  do.  They're  no  good  at  all  in  a 
case  like  this.  What  can  a  fellow  say?  If  it 
was  you,  you'd  say  plenty " 

"  I  hope  not,"  interrupted  Claude,  laughing. 
"  Wait  till  you  do  me  a  good  turn.  You've 
done  me  many  a  one  already,  and  I've  never 
said  a  word." 

But  Jack  would  shake  hands,  and  even 
Claude's  face  was  shining  with  a  tender  light 
as  a  soft  step  fell  upon  the  marble,  and  Lady 
Caroline  Sellwood  entered  from  the  drawing- 
room.  The  door  had  been  left  open.  But  it 
was  instantly  evident  that  her  Ladyship  had  not 
been  eavesdropping,  or  at  least  not  to  any  use- 
ful purpose ;  for  she  planted  herself  before  the 
two  men  in  obvious  ignorance  as  to  which  was 
the  man  for  her.  She  was  still  in  the  handsome 
dress  that  she  had  worn  all  the  evening ;  and  be- 
tween her  plump,  Avhite,  glittering  fingers  she 


END   OF  THE  INTERREGNUM        213 

nursed  the  purple  smoking-cap  that  had  always 
been— and  was  still  —  intended  for  the  Duke 
of  St.  Osmund's. 

"It  was  no  good,"  she  cried  tragically, 
looking  from  Claude  to  Jack  and  back  again 
at  Claude.  "  I  simply  couldn't  go  to  bed  until 
I  knew.  And  now  —  and  now  I'm  torn  two 
ways;  for  pity's  sake  put  me  out  of  one  misery." 

"It's  all  up,"  said  Jack  deliberately.  He 
owed  Lady  Caroline  a  grudge  for  the  shrill 
scolding  he  had  heard  upstairs,  and  another 
for  Olivia's  absence  from  the  dinner-table.  He 
was  also  curious  to  see  what  Lady  Caroline 
would  do. 

She  sailed  straight  to  Claude,  holding  the 
smoking-cap  at  arm's  length. 

"My  dear,  dear  Claude!  Hoiv  I  congratu- 
late you !  I  find,  after  all,  that  the  smoking- 
cap,  which  was  originally  intended " 

"Dear  Lady  Caroline,"  interposed  Claude 
hastily,  "  everything  is  as  it  was.  Hunt's  story 
is  a  complete  fabrication ;  I'd  no  idea  that  you 
knew  anything  about  it." 

"  I  couldn't  help  telling  Lady  Caroline,"  said 
Jack.  Lady  Caroline  turned  upon  him  with 
hot  suspicion. 

"  You  said  it  was  all " 

He  interrupted  her. 


214  MY  LOUD  DUKE 

"  I  was  (/oing  to  say  that  it  was  all  up  with 
Hunt.  He  loses  two  hundred  a  year  for  his 
pains." 

"  Is  that  possible  ?  "  cried  her  Ladyship. 

"It's  the  case,"  said  Claude;  "so  everything 
is  as  it  was,  and  as  it  should  be." 

Lady  Caroline  exhibited  no  further  trace  of 
her  discomfiture. 

"I  wish  we  hadn't  all  interrupted  each 
other,"  she  laughed.  "J  was  about  to  re- 
mark that  the  smoking-cap,  which  was  origi- 
nally intended  to  have  what  one  may  term  a 
frieze,  as  well  as  a  dado,  of  gold  lace,  will  look 
much  better  without  the  frieze,  so  there's 
really  no  more  to  do  to  it.  Take  it,  my  dear, 
dear  Jack,  and  wear  it  sometimes  for  my  sake. 
And  forgive  a  mother  for  what  one  said  about 
Olivia's  ride.  Claude,  I  shall  make  another 
cap  for  you;  meanwhile,  let  me  congi-atulate 
you  —  again  —  on  your  noble  conduct  of  to-day. 
Ah,  you  neither  of  you  congratulate  me  on 
mine  !  Yet  I  am  a  woman,  and  I've  kept  your 
joint  secret  —  most  religiously  —  from  nine  in 
the  morning  to  this  very  hour !  " 


CHAPTER   XVI 

"LOVE   THE   gift" 

Her  answer  was  altogether  astonishing;  she 
leant  back  in  the  boat  and  looked  him  full  in 
the  face.  A  quick  flush  tinged  her  own,  and 
the  incomparable  eyebrows  were  raised  and 
arched;  but  underneath  there  was  an  honest 
tenderness  which  Olivia  was  not  the  girl  to 
conceal. 

"  Was  that  your  water-lilies  ?  "  said  she  ;  but 
this  was  not  the  astonishing  speech.  He  had 
lured  her  afloat  on  impudently  false  pretences ; 
she  had  a  right  to  twit  him  with  that. 

"There  are  no  water-lilies,"  he  confessed; 
"at  least,  never  mind  them  if  there  are.  Oh,  I 
was  obliged  to  make  some  excuse  I  There  was 
nowhere  else  where  we  could  talk  so  well.  I 
tell  you  again  I  have  the  cheek  to  love  you ! 
I  can't  help  it ;  I've  loved  you  ever  since  that 
day  in  London,  and  you've  got  to  know  it  for 
good  or  bad.  If  it  makes  you  very  angry,  I'll 
row  you  back  this  minute."     He  was  resting  on 

216 


216  MY  LORD  DUKE 

his  oars  under  cover  of  the  little  island;  the 
Towers  were  out  of  sight. 

"  Why  in  the  world  didn't  you  speak  yester- 
day ?  "  was  Olivia's  extraordinary  reply. 

"  Yesterday  ?  "  faltered  Jack. 

"  It  was  such  a  chance  !  " 

"  Not  for  me !  My  tongue  was  tied.  Olivia, 
I  was  under  a  frightful  cloud  yesterday  !  You 
don't  understand " 

"  What  if  I  do  ?     What  if  I  did  at  the  time  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  could,"  said  Jack. 

"  Instinctively,"  replied  Olivia,  to  screen  her 
mother.  "  I  knew  something  was  wrong,  and 
I  have  since  been  told  what.  If  only  you  had 
spoken  then ! " 

She  dropped  her  eyes  swiftly;  the  tear  ran 
down  her  cheek. 

"  But  why  ?     Why  then,  better  than  now  ?  " 

"Because  /care,  too,"  she  whispered,  so  that 
the  words  just  travelled  to  his  ear. 

"  Olivia  !  My  —  do  you  know  what  you've 
said?     Do  you  mean  it?" 

"  Of  course  I  care.  I  mean  that  much.  You 
are  different  from  everybody  else." 

"Then " 

"  There  must  be  no  '  then.'  " 

"  But  you  said  you  cared.  Tell  me  —  I  don't 
understand." 


"LOVE    THE   GIFT"  217 

"  I  can  never  marry  you,"  said  Olivia,  looking 
him  once  more  in  the  face.    And  her  eyes  were  dry. 

"  Why  not,  if  it  is  true  —  that  you  care  ?  " 

"  Because  you  are  what  you  are  —  and  I  — 
oh !  how  can  I  say  it  even  to  you  ?  I  am  so 
ashamed.  I  have  been  thrown  at  your  head 
from  the  very  first  —  no,  I  have  no  right  to  say 
that.  How  I  hate  everything  I  say  !  You  must 
understand;  I  am  sure  you  do.  Well,  in  the 
beginning  I  couldn't  bear  to  speak  to  you,  be- 
cause I  knew  —  what  was  hoped  —  and  I  seemed 
to  see  and  hear  it  in  every  look  and  word.  It 
hurt  me  more  than  I  ever  can  tell  you.  The  same 
sort  of  thing  had  happened  before,  but  I  had 
never  minded  it  then.  I  suppose  all  mothers 
are  like  that;  it's  natural  enough,  when  you 
come  to  think,  and  I'm  sure  I  never  resented 
it  before.  I  wouldn't  have  minded  it  in  your 
case  either ;  I  wouldn't  have  minded  anything 
if  I  hadn't " 

The  words  would  not  come. 

"  Hadn't  what?  "  he  said. 

"  If  I  hadn't  liked  you  —  off  my  own  bat !  " 

"  But  if  you  really  do,  my  glorious  girl,  surely 
that  fixes  it?  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  any- 
body else.  What  does  it  matter  how  they  take 
it?" 

"  It  matters  to  my  pride." 


218  ^^Y  LORD  DUKE 

"  I  don't  see  where  your  pride  comes  in." 

"  Of  course  you  don't ;  you  are  not  behind 
the  scenes.  And  I  can't  make  you  see.  I'm 
not  going  to  give  my  own  people  away  to  that 
extent,  not  even  to  you.  But  —  I  can  just  pict- 
ure my  mother's  face  if  we  went  in  this  very 
minute  and  told  her  we  were  engaged !  She 
would  fall  upon  both  our  necks  !  " 

"  That  wouldn't  matter,"  said  Jack  stolidly. 
"  That  would  be  all  right." 

"  It  would  be  dreadful  —  dreadful.  I  couldn't 
bear  it  when  I  know  that  yesterday " 

She  checked  herself  firmly. 

"  Well,  what  of  yesterday?  " 

"  It  would  have  been  quite  a  different  thing." 

"  What !  if  I'd  spoken  then?  " 

"I  —  think  so." 

"  You  would  have  said " 

"  I  should  have  found  out  what  your  trouble 
was.  You  would  have  told  me  everything. 
And  then  —  and  then " 

He  leant  still  further  forward. 

"If  you  had  wanted  me  very  much " 

"  I  do  want  you  very  much." 

"I  should  have  found  it  easier  to  say  'yes' " 
—  the  word  was  hardly  audible  —  "  than  I  ever 
shall  now ! " 

"  But  why,  Olivia  ?     Tell  me  why  ! " 


"LOVE    THE   GIFT"  219 

"  You  force  it  from  me,  word  by  word,"  com- 
plained the  girl. 

"  Then  let  me  see.  I  think  I  begin  to  see. 
You  like  me  in  myself  almost  well  enough  to 
marry  me.  Well,  thank  God  for  that  much ! 
But  you  don't  want  to  marry  the  Duke  of  St. 
Osmund's,  because  you're  mortally  afraid  of 
what  people  will  say.  You  think  they'll  say 
you're  doing  it  for  the  main  chance.  And  so 
they  will  —  and  so  they  may  !  They  wouldn't 
say  it,  and  you  wouldn't  think  it,  of  any  other 
man  in  my  position ;  no,  it's  because  I'm  not  fit 
for  my  billet,  that's  how  it  is !  Not  fit  for  it, 
and  not  fit  for  you ;  so  they'd  naturally  think 
you  were  marrying  me  for  what  I'd  got,  and 
that  you  couldn't  bear.  Ah,  yes,  I  see  hard 
enough ;  it's  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff  now  !  " 

The  girl  saw,  too ;  with  the  unconscious 
bluntness  of  a  singularly  direct  nature,  he  had 
stripped  her  scruples  bare,  and  their  littleness 
horrified  Olivia.  The  moral  cowardice  of  her 
hesitation  came  home  to  her  with  an  insupporta- 
ble pang,  and  her  mind  was  made  up  before 
his  last  sentences  put  her  face  in  flames. 

"You  are  wrong,"  she  could  only  murmur; 
"  oh,  you  are  dreadfully  wrong !  " 

"I  am  right,"  he  answered  bitterly,  "and  i/ou 
are  right.     No  wonder  you  dread  the  hard  things 


220  MY  LORD  DUKE 

that  would  be  said  of  you !  Take  away  the 
name  and  the  money,  and  what  am  I  ?  A  back- 
block  larrikin  —  a  common  stockman  !  " 

"  The  man  for  me,"  said  Olivia  hoarsely. 

"  Ah,  yes,  if  I  were  not  such  a  public  match !  " 

"  Whatever  you  are  —  whatever  you  may  be 
—  if  you  want  me  still " 

"  Want  you !  I  have  wanted  you  from  the 
first.     I  shall  want  you  till  the  last !  " 

Her  reply  was  indistinct ;  her  tears  were  fall- 
ing fast;  he  took  her  two  white  hands,  but 
even  them  he  did  not  touch  with  his  lips.  A 
great  silence  held  them  both,  and  all  the  world; 
the  island  willows  kissed  the  stream ;  in  the 
sheet  of  gold  beyond,  a  fish  leapt,  and  the  ripple 
reached  the  boat  in  one  long  thin  fold.  The 
girl  spoke  first. 

"  We  need  not  be  in  a  hurry  to  tell  every- 
body," she  began  ;  but  the  words  were  retracted 
in  the  same  breath.  "What  am  I  saying?  Of 
course  we  will  tell.  Oh,  what  a  contempt  you 
must  have  for  me  !  " 

"  I  love  you,"  he  answered  simply.  "  I  am 
too  happy  to  live.  It's  all  too  good  to  be  true. 
Me  of  all  men  —  the  old  bnshman  !  " 

She  looked  lovingly  on  his  bearded  and  sun- 
burnt face,  shining  as  she  had  never  seen  it 
shine  before. 


"LOVE   THE   GIFT"  221 

"  No ;  it's  the  other  way  about,"  she  said. 
"I  am  not  half  good  enough  for  5^ou  —  you  who 
were  so  brave  yesterday  in  your  trouble  — who 
have  been  so  simple  always  in  your  prosperity. 
It  was  enough  to  turn  any  one's  head,  but 
you — ah,  I  don't  only  love  you.  I  admire 
you,  dear ;  may  God  help  me  to  make  you 
happy ! " 

They  stayed  much  longer  on  the  lake,  finally 
disembarking  on  its  uttermost  shore,  because 
Olivia  was  curious  to  see  how  the  hut  would 
look  in  the  first  rosy  light  of  her  incredible 
happiness.  And  when  they  came  to  it,  the 
sunlight  glinted  on  the  new  iron  roofing;  the 
pine-trees  exhaled  their  resin  in  the  noon-day 
heat  following  the  midnight  rain ;  and  the 
shadows  were  shot  with  golden  shafts,  where 
all  was  golden  to  the  lovers'  eyes. 

Jack  made  a  diffident  swain ;  it  was  the  girl 
who  slipped  her  hand  into  his. 

"  You  will  never  pull  it  down  ? "  she  said. 
"  We  will  use  it  for  a  summer-house,  and  to 
remind  you  of  your  old  life.  And  one  day  you 
will  take  me  out  to  the  Riverina,  and  show  me 
the  hut  you  really  lived  in,  and  all  your  old 
haunts.  Oh,  I  shouldn't  mind  if  we  had  both 
to  go  out  there  for  good!  A  hut  would  take 
far  less  looking  after  than  the  Towers,  and  I 


222  MY  LORD  DUKE 

should  have  you  much  more  to  myself.     What 
fun  it  would  be  !  " 

Jack  thought  this  a  pretty  speech,  but  the 
girl  herself  was  made  presently  aware  of  its 
insincerity.  They  had  retraced  their  steps,  and 
there  in  front  of  them,  cool  and  grey  in  the 
mellow  August  sunshine,  with  every  buttress 
thrown  up  by  its  shadow,  and  the  very  spires 
perfectly  reflected  in  the  sleeping  lake,  stood 
the  stately  home  which  would  be  theirs  for  ever. 
Olivia  saw  it  with  a  decidedly  new  thrill.  She 
was  looking  on  her  future  home,  and  yet  her 
husband  would  be  this  simple  fellow  !  Wealth 
could  not  cloy,  nor  grandeur  overpowei%  with 
such  a  mate ;  that  was  perhaps  the  substance 
of  her  thought.  It  simplified  itself  next  mo- 
ment. What  had  she  done  to  deserve  such 
happiness  ?  What  could  she  ever  do  ?  And  a 
possible  tabernacle  in  the  bush  entered  into 
neither  question,  nor  engaged  her  fancy  any 
more. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

AN   ANTI-TOXINE 

They  rowed  over,  and  were  in  mid-water 
when  the  landau  drove  up  to  the  house.  It 
had  been  sent  in  for  Mr.  Dalrymple  early 
in  the  forenoon.  They  saw  nothing,  however, 
until  they  landed,  when  the  equipage  was  pro- 
ceeding on  its  way  to  the  stables,  having  de- 
posited the  guest.  At  this  discovery,  the  Duke's 
excitement  knew  no  bounds,  so  Olivia  urged 
him  to  run  on  and  leave  her ;  and  he  took 
her  advice,  chiefly  regretting  tliat  he  had  missed 
the  proud  moment  of  welcoming  his  old  boss 
in  the  hall. 

Jack  regretted  this  the  more  when  he  reached 
the  house.  There  was  Dalrymple  of  Carara 
beginning  his  visit  by  roundly  abusing  the  but- 
ler in  the  very  portico !  The  guest  was  in  a 
towering  passion,  the  butler  in  a  palsy  of  senile 
agitation;  and  between  them  on  the  step  lay 
Dalrymple's  Gladstone  bag. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  Jack,  rushing 

223 


224  MY  LORD  DUKE 

up  with  a  very  blank  face.  "  Stebbings,  what's 
this?     What  has  he  done,  Mr.  Dalrymple?  " 

"  Refused  to  take  in  my  bag !  Says  it's  the 
footman's  place ! " 

"  Then  what's  he  here  for?  The  man  must  be 
drunk.     Are  you,  Stebbings?" 

The  butler  murmured  an  inarticulate  reply. 

"  Get  to  your  pantry,  sir ! "  roared  Jack. 
"You  shall  hear  more  of  this  when  you  are 
sober.  Old  servant  or  new  servant,  out  you 
clear ! " 

And  he  took  up  the  bag  himself,  as  Stebbings 
gave  a  glassy  stare  and  staggered  off  without  a 
word. 

"  I'm  extremely  sorry  for  losing  my  temper," 
said  Dalrymple,  taking  Jack's  arm  as  they  en- 
tered the  house ;  "  but  it  always  was  rather 
short,  as  I  fear  I  needn't  remind  you.  Really, 
though,  your  disgraceful  old  retainer  would 
have  provoked  a  saint.  Drunk  as  fool  in  the 
middle  of  the  day ;  drunk  and  insolent.  Has 
the  man  been  with  you  long?" 

"  Only  fifty  years  or  so  with  the  family,"  re- 
plied Jack  savagely ;  "  but,  by  the  living  Lord, 
he  may  roll  up  his  swag  !  " 

"  Ah !  I  wouldn't  be  hasty,"  said  Dalrymple. 
"  One  must  make  allowances  for  one's  old  re- 
tainers ;  they're  a  privileged  class.     How  good 


AN  ANTI-TOXINE  225 

of  you,  by  the  way,  to  send  in  for  me  in  such 
style !  It  prepared  me  for  much.  But  I  am 
bound  to  say  it  didn't  prepare  me  for  all  this. 
No,  I  never  should  have  pictured  you  in  such 
an  absolute  palace  had  I  not  seen  it  with  my 
own  eyes !  " 

And  now  the  visitor  was  so  plainly  impressed 
by  all  he  saw,  that  Jack  readily  forgave  him 
the  liberty  he  had  taken  in  rating  Stebbings 
on  his  own  account.  Still  the  incident  rankled. 
Dalrymple  was  the  one  man  in  the  world  be- 
fore whom  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  really 
did  desire  to  play  his  new  part  creditably ;  and 
what  could  be  said  for  a  peer  of  the  realm  who 
kept  a  drunken  butler  to  insult  his  guests? 
Jack  could  have  shaken  the  old  reprobate  un- 
til the  bones  rattled  again  in  his  shrivelled  skin. 
Dalrymple,  however,  seemed  to  think  no  more 
about  the  matter.  He  was  entirely  taken  up 
with  the  suits  of  armour  here  in  the  hall: 
indeed  Olivia  discovered  him  lecturing  Jack 
on  his  own  trophies  in  a  manner  that  would 
have  led  a  stranger  to  mistake  the  guest  for 
the  host. 

It  may  be  said  at  once  that  this  was  Dal- 
rymple's  manner  from  first  to  last.  It  was  that 
of  the  school-master  to  whom  the  boy  who  once 
trembled  at  his  frown  is  a  boy  for  evermore. 


226  MY  LORD  DUKE 

And  it  greatly  irritated  Jack's  friends,  though 
Jack  himself  saw  nothing  to  resent. 

The  Duke  led  his  guest  into  the  great  draw- 
ing-room, and  introduced  him  with  gusto  to 
Lady  Caroline  Sellwood  and  to  Claude  Lafont. 
But  all  his  pride  was  in  the  visitor,  who,  with 
his  handsome  cynical  face,  his  distinguished 
bearing,  and  his  faultless  summer  suit,  should 
show  them  that  at  least  one  "perfect  gentle- 
man "  could  come  out  of  Riverina.  Jack  waited 
a  moment  to  enjoy  the  easy  speeches  and  the 
quiet  assurance  of  Dalrymple;  then  he  left 
the  squatter  to  Lady  Caroline  and  to  Claude. 
It  was  within  a  few  minutes  of  the  luncheon 
hour.  Jack  wanted  a  word  with  Stebbings 
alone.  The  more  he  thought  of  it,  the  less 
able  was  he  to  understand  the  old  butler's  ex- 
traordinary outbreak.  Could  he  have  been  ill 
instead  of  drunk?  A  charitable  explanation 
was  just  conceivable  to  Jack  until  he  opened 
the  pantry  door;  it  fell  to  the  ground  that 
moment;  for  not  only  did  he  catch  Stebbings 
in  the  act  of  filling  a  wine-glass  with  brandy, 
but  the  butler's  breath  was  foul  already  with 
the  spirit. 

"Very  well,  my  man,"  said  Jack  slowly. 
"Drink  as  much  as  you  like!  You'll  hear 
from    me   when   you're    sober.     But    show   so 


AN  ANTI-TOXINE  227 

much  as  the  tip  of  your  nose  in  the  dining- 
room,  and  I'll  throw  you  through  the  window 
with  my  own  hands  !  " 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  indirect  and 
a  little  startling ;  for  this  was  the  reason  why 
Dalrymple  of  Carara  took  the  head  of  his  old 
hand's  table  at  luncheon  on  the  day  of  his  arri- 
val ;  and  obviously  it  was  Dalrymple's  tempo- 
rary occupation  of  that  position,  added  to  his 
unforgettable  past  relations  with  his  host,  which 
led  him  to  behave  exactly  as  though  the  table 
were  his  own. 

A  difficulty  about  the  carving  was  the  more 
immediate  cause  of  the  transposition.  In  the 
ordinary  course,  this  was  Stebbings's  business, 
which  he  conducted  on  the  sideboard  with  due 
skill ;  in  his  absence,  however,  the  footmen  had 
placed  the  dishes  on  the  table;  and  as  these 
included  a  brace  of  cold  grouse,  and  neither 
Jack  nor  Claude  was  an  even  moderate  practi- 
tioner with  the  carving-knife,  there  was  a  little 
hitch.  Mr.  Sellwood  was  not  present ;  he  took 
his  lunch  on  the  links  ;  and  Jack  made  no  secret 
of  his  relief  when  the  squatter  offered  to  fill  the 
breach. 

"  Capital !  "  he  cried ;  "  you  take  my  place,  sir, 
and  I  wish  you  joy  of  the  billet."  And  so  the 
thing  fell  out. 


228  ^Y  LORD  DUKE 

It  had  the  merit  of  seating  the  Duke  and 
Olivia  side  by  side ;  and  the  happy  pair  were 
made  distinctly  happier  by  the  mutual  discov- 
ery that  neither  had  as  yet  confided  in  a  third 
soul.  At  the  foot  of  the  table,  in  the  position 
which  Jack  had  begged  her  to  assume  at  the 
outset  of  her  visit,  sat  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood. 
The  clever  young  men  were  on  opposite  sides, 
as  usual ;  nor  did  they  fail  to  exchange  those 
looks  of  neglected  merit  and  of  intellectual 
boredom  which  were  another  feature  of  their 
public  appearances.  Their  visit  had  not  been 
altogether  a  success.  It  was  a  mystery  why 
they  prolonged  it.  They  had  been  invited,  how- 
ever, to  spend  a  month  at  Maske  Towers,  which, 
after  all,  was  neither  an  uncomfortable  resting- 
place  nor  a  discreditable  temporary  address. 

Francis  Freke  said  a  Latin  grace  inaudibly, 
and  then  the  squatter  went  to  work  at  the 
birds.  These  were  a  present  from  afar;  there 
were  no  moors  "  on  "  Maske,  as  Jack  explained, 
with  a  proud  eye  on  Dalrymple's  knife.  It 
flashed  through  the  joints  as  though  the  bird 
had  been  already  "  boned  "  ;  on  either  side  the 
breast  fell  away  in  creamy  flakes ;  and  Dalryraple 
talked  as  he  carved,  with  the  light  touch  and  the 
easy  grace  of  a  many-sided  man  of  the  world. 
At  first  he  seemed  to  join  in  everybody's  con- 


AN  ANTI-TOXINE  229 

versation  in  turns  ;  but  he  was  only  getting  his 
team  together;  and  in  a  little  everybody  was 
listening  to  him.  Yet  he  talked  with  such  tact 
that  it  was  possible  for  all  to  put  in  their  word ; 
indeed,  he  would  appeal  first  to  one,  then  to 
another,  so  that  the  general  temper  of  the  party 
rose  to  a  high  level.  Only  Olivia  and  Claude 
Lafont  felt  that  this  stranger  was  taking  rather 
much  upon  himself.  Otherwise  it  was  a  pleas- 
ure to  listen  to  him;  he  was  excellently  well 
informed ;  before  the  end  of  the  meal  it  came 
out  that  he  had  actually  read  Claude's  poems. 

"And  lived  to  tell  the  tale!"  he  added 
with  characteristic  familiarity.  "  I  can  tell  you 
I  felt  it  a  risk  after  reading  that  terrible  de- 
preciation of  you  in  the  Parthenon;  you  see, 
I've  been  in  England  a  few  days,  and  have  been 
getting  abreast  of  things  at  my  hotel  while  my 
tailors  were  making  me  externally  presentable. 
By  the  way,  I  ran  across  a  young  Australian 
journalist  who  is  over  here  now,  and  who  occa- 
sionally scribbles  for  the  Parthenon.  I  asked 
him  if  he  knew  who  had  made  that  scurrilous 
attack  upon  you,  Mr.  Lafont.  I  was  interested, 
because  I  knew  you  must  be  one  of  Jack's  re- 
lations." 

"And  did  you  find  out?"  inquired  Claude, 
with  pardonable  curiosity. 


230  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  He  found  out  for  me.  The  culprit  was  a 
man  of  your  name,  Mr.  Stubbs;  no  relation,  I 
hope?" 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Stubbs,  emptying  his 
glass ;  and  his  pallid  complexion  turned  a 
sicklier  yellow,  as  though  his  blood  were  nico- 
tine, and  the  nicotine  had  mounted  to  his  face. 

"I  should  like  to  hear  that  name  in  full," 
said  Lady  Caroline  down  the  length  of  the  table. 
"  I  read  the  article  myself.  It  was  a  disgrace 
to  journalism.  It  is  only  fair  to  our  Mr.  Stubbs 
that  we  should  hear  his  namesake's  Christian 
name." 

"  I  think  I  can  oblige,"  said  Dalrymple,  pro- 
ducing his  pocket-book.  "  His  name  was  —  ah ! 
here  it  is !  His  name  was  Edmund.  Edmund 
Stubbs ! " 

Edmund  Stubbs  was  not  unequal  to  the  occa- 
sion.    He  looked  straight  at  Jack. 

"  Will  you  kindly  make  it  convenient  to  send 
me  in  to  Devenholrae  in  time  for  the  next 
train  ?  "  he  said.  "  If  the  Australian  —  gentle- 
man—  is  going  to  stay  in  your  house,  I,  for  one, 
shall  trespass  no  longer  on  your  hospitality." 

"  Nor  I,  for  another ! "  Llewellyn  chimed  in. 

And  without  further  ceremony  the  mordant 
couple  left  the  table  and  the  room.  Jack 
looked  embarrassed,  and  Claude  felt  sorry  for 


AN  ANTI-TOXINE  231 

Jack.  As  for  Olivia,  she  bad  felt  vaguely 
indignant  with  Dalryraple  ever  since  he  had 
taken  the  head  of  the  table ;  and  this  scene  put 
a  point  to  her  feelings,  while  it  also  revived  her 
first  prejudice  against  the  squatter.  Lady 
Caroline,  however,  congratulated  him  upon  an 
excellent  piece  of  work. 

"  You  have  performed  a  public  service,  my 
dear  Mr.  Dalrymple,"  said  she.  "Dear  Jack 
will,  I  know,  forgive  me  when  I  say  that  those 
two  young  men  have  never  been  in  their  ele- 
ment here.  They  are  all  right  in  a  London 
drawing-room,  as  representatives  of  a  certain 
type.  In  a  country  house  they  are  impossible ; 
and,  for  my  part,  I  shall  certainly  never  send 
them  another  card." 

Jack  also  was  ceasing  to  disapprove  of  the 
humiliation  of  Edmund  Stubbs,  whose  remarks 
overnight  in  the  Poet's  Corner  had  suddenly 
recurred  to  his  mind. 

"Did  you  know  it  was  the  same  man?"  said 
he,  pushing  back  his  chair. 

"I'm  afraid  I  did,"  replied  the  squatter,  as 
he  rose.  "  They  told  me  he  was  staying  down 
here,  and  I  could  hardly  avoid  exposing  the 
fellow.  I  hope,  my  dear  Jack,  that  you  will 
forgive  the  liberty  I  undoubtedly  took  in  doing 
so.      I  am  the  germ  that  expels  the  other  germs 


232  MY  LORD  DUKE 

—  a  sort  of  anti-toxine  in  cuffs.  Similia  simili- 
bus,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  Mr.  Lafont.  Be- 
fore long  you  may  have  to  inject  a  fresh  bacillus 
to  expel  me  !  Meantime,  my  dear  Jack,  let  me 
offer  you  a  cigar  to  show  there's  no  ill-feeling." 

"No,  thanks,"  said  Jack,  for  once  rather 
shortly;  "you've  got  to  smoke  one  of  mine. 
It's  my  house ! "  he  added,  with  a  grin. 

And  the  remark  was  much  appreciated  by 
those  to  whom  it  was  not  addressed;  on  Dal- 
rymple  it  produced  no  effect  at  all. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

HECKLING   A  MINISTER 

The  engagement  became  known  in  the  course 
of  the  afternoon,  and  the  news  was  received,  in 
a  manner  after  all  very  gratifying  to  the  happy 
pair.  Lady  Caroline  Sellwood  did  indeed  insist 
on  kissing  her  future  son-in-law,  but  the  obvi- 
ous attitude  she  now  assumed  did  not  impose 
upon  him  for  a  moment.  He  had  seen  through 
her  the  night  before  ;  he  could  never  believe 
in  the  woman  again.  In  any  case,  however,  her 
affectation  of  blank  surprise,  and  her  motherly 
qualms  concerning  the  prospective  loss  of  her 
ewe  lamb,  were  a  little  over-acted,  even  for  so 
inexperienced  an  observer  as  the  Duke  of  St. 
Osmund's.  She  knew  it,  too,  and  hated  Jack 
with  all  her  hollow  heart  for  having  found  her 
out ;  to  him,  it  was,  after  this,  a  relief  to  listen 
to  the  somewhat  guarded  observations  of  Mr. 
Sellwood,  whose  feelings  in  the  matter  were 
just  a  little  mixed. 

Of  tlie  rest,   Francis  Freke  volunteered   his 

233 


234  MV  LORD  DUKE 

services  for  the  great  event,  and  both  he  and 
his  wife  (who  brought  down  her  entire  speak- 
ing family  to  say  good-night  to  "  Uncle  Jack  ") 
were  consumed  with  that  genuine  delight  in  the 
happiness  of  others  which  was  their  strongest 
point.  Claude,  too,  was  not  only  "  very  nice 
about  it,"  as  Olivia  said,  but  his  behaviour,  in 
what  was  for  him  a  rather  delicate  situation, 
showed  both  tact  and  self-control.  Never  for  a 
moment  did  look  or  word  of  his  suggest  the 
unsuccessful  suitor:  though  to  be  sure  he  had 
scarcely  qualified  for  such  a  role.  Olivia  and 
he  had  never  been  more  than  friends.  On  her 
side,  at  least,  the  friendship  had  been  of  that 
perfectly  frank  and  chronic  character  which  is 
least  likely  to  develop  into  love.  And  no  one 
knew  this  better  than  Claude  himself,  who,  more- 
over, was  not  even  yet  absolutely  sure  that  his 
own  undoubted  affections  were  inspired  by  the 
divine  impulse  for  which  his  poet's  heart  had  so 
often  yearned.  At  all  events  he  had  thought 
upon  the  one  maiden  for  very  many  months ; 
and  putting  it  no  higher  than  this,  his  present 
conduct  was  that  of  a  tolerably  magnanimous 
man. 

The  one  person  who  raised  an  unsympathetic 
eyebrow  was  Dalrymple  the  squatter.  He  seemed 
surprised  at  the  news  and,  for  the  moment,  rather 


HECKLING  A   MINISTER  235 

annoyed;  but  Jack  recalled  the  deplorably- 
cynical  view  of  women  for  which  the  owner 
of  Carara  had  been  quite  notorious  in  the  back- 
blocks,  and  the  squatter's  displeasure  did  not 
rankle.  Nor  was  it  expressed  a  second  time. 
Either  the  sight  of  the  pair  together,  who  made 
no  secret  of  their  happiness ;  either  this  pretty 
spectacle,  or  the  dictates  of  good  taste,  moved 
Dalrymple,  ultimately,  to  the  most  graceful  con- 
gratulations they  had  yet  received.  And  it  was 
characteristic  of  the  man  that  his  remarks  took 
the  form  of  an  unsolicited  speech  at  the  dinner- 
table. 

He  had  been  only  a  few  hours  in  the  house, 
yet  to  all  but  Mr.  Sellwood  (who  did  not  meet 
him  until  evening)  the  hours  seemed  days. 
For  the  squatter  was  one  of  those  men  who 
carry  with  them  the  weight  of  their  own  pres- 
ence, the  breath  of  an  intrinsic  power,  subtly 
felt  from  the  first;  thus  the  little  house-party 
had  taken  more  notice  of  him  in  one  afternoon 
than  the  normal  stranger  would  have  attracted 
in  a  week  ;  and  to  them  it  already  seemed  inevi- 
table that  he  should  lead  and  that  they  should 
follow  whether  they  would  or  no.  Accordingly, 
they  were  not  in  the  least  surprised  to  see  Dal- 
rymple on  his  legs  when  the  crumb-cloth  had 
been  removed ;  though  all  but  Jack  deemed  the 


236  MY  LORD  DUKE 

act  a  liberty ;  and  the  squatter  still  adopted  the 
tone  of  a  master  felicitating  his  men,  rather  than 
that  of  a  guest  congratulating  his  host. 

Yet  the  speech  was  fluent  and  full  of  point ; 
and  the  speaker  himself  made  a  sufBciently  tak- 
ing figure,  leaning  slightly  forward,  with  the 
tips  of  his  well-shaped  fingers  just  resting  on 
the  black  oak  board  that  dimly  reflected  them. 
An  unexceptionable  shirt-front  sat  perfectly  on 
his  full,  deep  chest,  a  single  pearl  glistening 
in  its  centre  ;  and  there  was  a  gleam  of  even  teeth 
between  the  close-cropped,  white  moustache  and 
the  ugly,  mobile,  nether  lip,  whence  every  word 
fell  distinct  and  clear  of  its  predecessor.  The 
Home  Secretary  had  heard  a  worse  delivery 
from  his  own  front  bench ;  and  he  was  cer- 
tainly interested  in  the  story  of  the  iron  hut 
and  the  savages  of  Northern  Queensland,  which 
Dalrymple  repeated  with  the  happiest  effect. 
Olivia  forgave  him  certain  earlier  passages  on 
the  strength  of  these  ;  her  heart  was  full ;  only 
she  could  not  lift  her  eyes  from  the  simple  chain 
about  her  wrist,  for  they  were  dim.  The  speech 
closed  with  the  dramatic  climax  of  the  tale ; 
there  had  been  but  one  interruption  to  the  flow 
of  well-chosen  words,  and  that  was  when  the 
speaker  stopped  to  blow  out  a  smoking  candle 
without  appealing  to  his  host. 


HECKLING  A   MINISTER  237 

The  health  of  the  pair  was  then  drunk  with 
appropriate  enthusiasm;  poor  Jack  blurted  out 
a  few  honest  words,  hardly  intelligible  from 
his  emotion;  and  the  three  ladies  left  the 
room. 

"  There's  one  more  point  to  that  yarn,"  said 
Dalrymple,  closing  the  door  he  had  held  open, 
"that  I  don't  think  you  yourself  are  aware 
of,  Jack.  It  was  when  you  got  back  to  the 
store,  with  your  shirt  burnt  off  your  back,  and 
the  country  in  a  blaze  all  round,  that  I  first  no- 
ticed the  legend  on  your  chest.  As  you  prob- 
ably know,  Mr.  Sellwood,  the  Duke  has  one 
of  his  own  eagles  tattooed  upon  his  chest.  I 
saw  it  that  day  for  the  first  time.  I  felt  sure 
it  meant  something.  And  years  afterwards, 
when  I  heard  that  a  London  solicitor  was  scour- 
ing the  Colonies  for  the  unknown  Duke  of  St. 
Osmund's,  it  was  the  sudden  recollection  of 
that  mark  which  made  me  to  some  extent  the 
happy  instrument  of  his  discovery." 

«  To  every  extent !  "  cried  Jack,  wringing  his 
benefactor's  hand.  "I've  always  said  so.  Mr. 
Sellwood,  I  owe  him  everything,  and  yet  he 
makes  a  song  about  my  scaring  away  a  few 
blackfellows  with  a  bush-fire!  By  the  hokey, 
I've  a  good  mind  to  have  him  live  happily  with 
us  ever  after  for  his  pains  !  " 


238  MY  LORD  DUKE 

The  Home  Secretary  bent  his  snowy  head: 
his  rosy  face  was  the  seat  of  that  peculiarly 
grim  expression  with  which  political  caricatur- 
ists have  familiarised  the  world.  Dalrymple's 
light  eyes  twinkled  like  polished  flints;  here 
was  high  game  worthy  of  his  gun.  He  took 
the  empty  chair  on  Mr.  Sell  wood's  left. 

"  I  understand,  sir,  that  you  are  fatally  bitten 
with  golf?"  began  the  squatter  in  his  airiest 
manner.  The  other  lit  a  cigarette  with  insolent 
deliberation  before  replying. 

"  I'm  fond  of  the  game,"  he  said  at  length, 
"if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"  That  was  precisely  what  I  did  mean.  Par- 
don me  if  I  used  an  unparliamentary  expression. 
I  have  read  a  great  deal  in  your  English  papers 
—  with  which  I  never  permit  myself  to  lose 
touch  —  of  the  far-reaching  ravages  of  the  game. 
Certainly  the  disease  must  be  widespread  when 
one  finds  a  Cabinet  Minister  down  with  the  — 
golf ! " 

"  We  don't  pronounce  the  ?,"  Mr.  Sellwood 
observed.  "We  call  it  ffojf.''  For  though  in 
political  life  an  imperturbable  temper  was  one 
of  his  most  salient  virtues,  the  Home  Secretary 
was  notoriously  touchy  on  the  subject  of  his 
only  game. 

Dalrymple  laughed  outright. 


HECKLING  A   MINISTER  239 

"  A  sure  symptom,  my  dear  sir,  of  a  thoroughly 
dangerous  case  !  But  pray  excuse  my  levity ;  I 
fear  we  become  a  little  too  addicted  to  chaff  in 
the  uncivilised  wilds.  I  am  honestly  most 
curious  about  the  game.  I'm  an  old  fogey  my- 
self, and  I  might  like  to  take  it  up  if  it  really 
has  any  merits " 

"  It  has  many,"  put  in  Claude  cheerily,  to 
divert  an  attack  which  Mr.  Sellwood  was  quite 
certain  to  resent. 

"  Has  it  ? "  said  the  squatter  incredulously. 
"For  the  life  of  one  I  can't  see  where  those 
merits  come  in.  To  lay  yourself  out  to  hit  a 
sitting  ball!  I'd  as  soon  shoot  a  roosting 
hen!" 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  cried  Jack.  "  That's  exactly 
what  /say,  Mr.  Dalrymple." 

The  discussion  had  in  fact  assumed  the  con- 
stituent elements  of  a  "foursome,"  which  may 
have  been  the  reason  why  the  Home  Secretary 
was  unable  any  longer  to  maintain  the  silence 
of  dignified  disdain. 

"  I  should  like  to  take  you  out,  the  two  of 
you,"  he  said,  "with  a  driver  and  a  ball  between 
you.  I  should  like  to  see  which  of  you  would 
hit  that  sitting  ball  first,  and  how  far  !  " 

"We'll  take  you  on  to-morrow!"  exclaimed 
Jack. 


240  MY  LORD  DUKE 

But  the  Home  Secretary  made  no  reply. 

"  I'm  not  keen,"  remarked  Dalrymple.  "  It 
can't  be  a  first-class  game." 

"You're  hardly  qualified  to  judge,"  snapped 
Sellwood,  "  since  you've  never  played." 

"  Exactly  why  I  am  qualified.  I'm  not  down 
with  the  disease." 

"  Then  pray  let  us  adopt  the  Duke's  sugges- 
tion, and  play  a  foursome  to-morrow  —  like  as 
we  sit.  Eh,  Mr.  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I 
quite  forget  your  name  ?  " 

"Dalrymple,"  replied  the  squatter;  "and 
yours,  once  more?" 

"  Look  in  Whitaker,"  growled  the  Home  Sec- 
retary, rising ;  and  he  left  the  table  doubly  an- 
gered by  the  weakness  of  his  retort,  where  indeed 
it  was  weak  to  have  replied  at  all. 

Decidedly  the  squatter  was  no  comfortable 
guest.  Apart  from  his  monstrous  freedom  of 
speech  and  action,  which  might  pass  perhaps  on 
a  bush  station,  but  certainly  not  in  an  English 
country  house,  he  was  continually  falling  foul 
of  somebody.  Now  it  was  the  butler,  now  a 
fellow  guest,  and  lastly  a  connection  of  his  host, 
and  one  of  Her  Majesty's  Ministers  into  the 
bargain.  In  each  case,  to  be  sure,  the  other 
side  was  primarily  in  the  wrong.  The  butler 
was  the  worse' for  drink;    the  Parthenon  man 


HECKLING  A   MINISTER  241 

had  indulged  in  gratuitous  abuse  of  his  friend ; 
even  Mr.  Sellwood  had  taken  amiss  what  was 
meant  as  pure  chaff,  and  had  been  the  first  to 
begin  the  game  of  downright  rudeness  at  which 
the  old  Australian  had  soon  beaten  him.  Yet 
the  fact  remained  that  Dalrymple  was  the  mov- 
ing spirit  in  each  unpleasantness ;  he  had  been 
a  moving  spirit  since  the  moment  he  set  foot  in 
the  house,  and  this  was  exactly  what  the  other 
guests  resented.  But  it  was  becoming  painfully 
apparent  that  Jack  himself  would  take  nothing 
amiss  ;  that  he  was  constitutionally  unable  to  re- 
gard Dalrj-mple  in  any  other  light  than  that  of 
his  old  king,  who  could  still  do  no  wrong.  And 
this  being  so,  it  was  impossible  for  another  to 
complain. 

Indeed,  when  Mr.  Sellwood  joined  the  ladies, 
who  happened  to  be  in  the  conservatory,  with 
savage  words  upon  his  lips,  his  wife  stuck  up 
for  the  maligned  Colonist.  That,  however,  was 
partly  from  the  instinct  of  conjugal  opposition, 
and  partly  because  Lady  Caroline  was  herself 
afraid  of  "  this  fellow  Dalrymple,"  as  her  hus- 
band could  call  him  fluently  enough  behind 
his  back.  The  other  men  were  not  long  in 
joining  the  indignant  Minister.  They  had 
finished  their  cigarettes,  but  Jack  had  donned 
his  gorgeous    smoking-cap   by   special   request 


242  MY  LORD  DUKE 

of  Lady  Caroline,  who  beamed  upon  him  and 
it  from  her  chair. 

"  Hallo  !  have  you  come  in  for  that  thing  ?  " 
exclaimed  Mr.  Sellwood,  who  was  in  the  mood 
to  hail  with  delight  any  target  for  hostile  criti- 
cism. "  I  always  thought  you  intended  it  for 
Claude,  my  dear  Caroline  ?  " 

"It  turned  out  to  be  a  little  too  small  for 
Claude,"  replied  her  Ladyship  sweetly. 

"  Claude,  you've  had  an  escape,"  said  the 
Home  Secretary.  "  Jack,  my  boy,  you  have  my 
sympathy." 

"  I  don't  require  it,  thank  you,  sir,"  laughed 
the  Duke.  "  I'm  proud  of  myself,  I  tell  you ! 
This'd  knock  'em  up  at  Jumping  Sandhills, 
wouldn't  it,  Mr.  Dalrymple  ?  " 

"It  would  indeed:  so  the  cap  goes  with  the 
coronet,  does  it?"  added  the  squatter,  but  with 
such  good-humour  that  it  was  impossible  to  take 
open  umbrage  at  his  words.  "  I  wonder  how  it 
would  fit  me?"  And  he  lifted  the  thing  off 
Jack's  head  by  the  golden  tassel,  and  dropped 
it  upon  his  own. 

"  Too  small  again,"  said  Jack :  indeed  the  pur- 
ple monstrosity  sat  upon  the  massive  hairless 
head  like  a  thimble  on  a  billiard-ball. 

"  And  it  doesn't  suit  you  a  bit,"  added  Olivia, 
who  was  once  more  in  a  simmer  of  indignation 
with  her  lover's  exasperating  friend. 


HECKLING  A    MINISTER  243 

"No  more  would  the  coronet,"  replied  Dal- 
rymple,  replacing  the  smoking-cap  on  its  owner's 
head.  "  By  the  way,  Jack,  where  do  you  keep 
your  coronet?" 

"  Where  do  I  keep  ray  coronet  ?  "  asked  the 
Duke  of  his  major-domo.  "  Fve  never  set  eyes 
on  it." 

"  I  fancy  they  have  it  at  the  bank,"  said 
Claude. 

"  And  much  good  it  does  you  there ! "  ex- 
claimed Dalrymple.  "Shall  I  tell  you  what 
I'd  do  with  it  if  it  were  mine?" 

"  Yes,  do,"  said  Jack,  smiling  in  advance. 

"  Then  come  outside  and  you  shall  hear.  I 
am  afraid  I  have  shocked  your  friends  sufficiently 
for  one  night.  And  there's  a  very  fascinating 
moon." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   CAT   AND   THE   MOUSE 

"  Yoo'ke  a  lucky  fellow,"  said  the  squatter 
as  they  sauntered  down  the  drive.  "Give  me 
another  of  those  cigars ;  they  are  better  than 
mine,  after  all." 

"  They  ought  to  be,"  replied  Jack  compla- 
cently. "  I  told  old  Claude  to  pay  all  he  could 
for  'em." 

"  He  seems  to  have  done  so.  What  an  in- 
come you  must  have  ! " 

"  About  fifteen  bob  a  minute,  so  they  tell  me." 

"  After  a  pound  a  week  in  the  bush !  " 

"It  does  sound  rummy,  doesn't  it?  After 
you  with  the  match,  sir." 

"  It's  incredible." 

"  Yet  it's  astonishing  how  used  you  get  to  it 
in  time  —  you'd  be  surprised!  At  first  the 
whole  thing  knocked  me  sideways ;  it  was 
tucker  I  couldn't  digest.  But  once  you  take  to 
the  soft  tack,  there's  nothing  like  it  in  the 
world.  You  may  guess  who's  made  me  take  to 
it  quicker  than  I  might  have  done !  " 

241 


THE   CAT  AND   THE  MOUSE  246 

Dalrymple  shrugged  his  massive  shoulders, 
and  raised  a  contemplative  eye  to  the  moon,  that 
lay  curled  like  a  silver  shaving  in  the  lucid 
heavens. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can  guess,"  he  said  sardonically. 
"  And  mind  you  I've  nothing  against  the  girl  — 
I  meant  you  were  lucky  there.  The  girl's  all 
right  —  if  you  must  marry.  I  don't  dislike  a 
woman  who'll  show  fight ;  and  she  looked  like 
showing  it  when  I  tried  on  that  cracker-night- 
cap thing  of  yours.  Oh,  certainly!  If  you 
were  to  marry,  you  couldn't  have  done  better; 
the  girl's  worth  fifty  of  her  mother,  at  any  rate." 

"Fifty  million!"  cried  Jack,  somewhat 
warmly. 

"Fifty  million  I  meant  to  say,"  and  the 
squatter  ran  his  arm  through  that  of  his  host. 
"Come,  don't  you  mind  me.  Jack,  my  boy! 
You  know  what  an  old  heathen  I  am  in  those 
little  matters ;  and  we  have  lots  of  other  things 
to  talk  about,  in  any  case." 

Jack  was  mollified  in  a  moment. 

"  Lots  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  don't  seem  to  have 
seen  anything  of  you  yet,  and  I'm  sure  you 
haven't  seen  much  of  the  place.  Isn't  it  a  place 
and  a  half?  Look  at  the  terrace  in  the  moon- 
light—  and  the  spires — and  the  windows  — 
hundreds  of  'em  —  and  the  lawn  and  the  tank  ! 


246  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Then  there's  the  inside ;  you've  seen  the  hall ; 
but  I  must  show  you  the  picture-gallery  and  the 
State  Apartments.  Such  pictures !  They  say 
it's  one  of  the  finest  private  collections  in  the 
world ;  there's  hardly  one  of  them  that  isn't  by 
some  old  master  or  another.  I've  heard  the 
pictures  alone  are  worth  half  a  million  of 
money ! " 

"  They  are,"  said  Dalrymple. 

"You've  heard  so  too?" 

"  Of  course  ;  my  good  fellow,  your  possessions 
are  celebrated  all  the  world  over;  that's  what 
you  don't  appear  to  have  realised  yet." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Jack.  "  It  puts  me  in  a  sick 
funk  when  I  try !  So  it  would  you  if  you  were 
suddenly  to  come  in  for  a  windfall  like  mine  — 
that  is,  if  you  were  a  chap  like  me.  But  you 
aren't ;  you'd  be  the  very  man  for  the  billet." 

And  Jack  stepped  back  to  admire  his  hero, 
who  chuckled  softly  as  he  smoked,  standing  at 
his  full  height,  with  both  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  the  moon  like  limelight  on  his  shirt. 

"  It's  not  a  billet  I  should  care  about,"  said 
the  squatter;  "but  it's  great  fun  to  find  you 
filling  it  so  admirably " 

"I  don't;  I  wish  I  did,"  said  Jack,  throwing 
away  the  cigar  which  he  had  lighted  to  keep 
his  guest  company. 


THE   CAT  AND    THE  MOUSE  247 

"  You  do,  though.  And  if  it  isn't  a  rude  ques- 
tion   "  Dalryiuple  hesitated,  staring  hard  — 

"  I  daresay  you're  very  happy  in  your  new  life  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I'm  very  happy  now.  None  hap- 
pier!" 

"But  apart  from  the  girl?" 

"  You  can't  get  apart  from  her ;  that's  just  it. 
If  I'm  to  go  on  being  happy  in  my  position,  I'll 
have  to  learn  to  fill  it  without  making  myself 
a  laughing-stock ;  and  the  one  person  who  can 
teach  me  will  be  my  wife." 

"  I  see.  Then  you  begin  to  like  your  position 
for  its  own  sake  ?  " 

"That's  so,"  replied  Jack.  He  was  paring  a 
cake  of  very  black  tobacco  for  the  pipe  which 
he  had  stuck  between  his  teeth.  Dalrymple 
watched  him  with  interest. 

"And  yet,"  said  the  squatter,  "you  have 
neither  acquired  a  taste  for  your  own  most  ex- 
cellent cigars,  nor  conquered  your  addiction  to 
the  vile  twist  we  used  to  keep  on  the  station  !  " 

"Well,  and  that's  so,  too,"  laughed  Jack. 
"  You  must  give  a  fellow  time,  Mr.  Dalrymple  !  " 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  thought  when  I  met 
you  yesterday?"  continued  Dalrymple,  turning 
his  back  to  the  moon,  and  looking  very  hard  at 
Jack  while  he  sucked  at  his  cigar  with  his  thick, 
strong  lips.     "  Do  you  know  how  you  struck  me 


248  MY  LORD  DUKE 

then  ?  I  thought  you'd  neither  acquired  a  taste 
for  your  new  life  nor  conquered  your  affection 
for  the  old.  That's  how  you  struck  me  in  Deven- 
holme  yesterday." 

Jack  made  no  haste  to  reply.  He  was  not  at 
all  astonished  at  the  impression  he  had  created 
the  day  before.  But  his  old  boss  was  still  the 
one  man  before  whom  he  was  anxious  to  dis- 
play a  modicum  of  dignity,  even  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  pose.  And  it  is  noteworthy  that 
he  had  neither  confided  in  Dalrymple  concern- 
ing his  dilemma  of  the  previous  day,  nor  yet  so 
much  as  mentioned  in  his  hearing  the  model  hut 
among  the  pines. 

"  I  don't  wonder,"  he  said  at  length ;  "  it  was 
the  way  I  was  likely  to  strike  you  just  then. 
Don't  you  see?  I  hadn't  got  it  out  at  the 
time ! " 

"So  it  was  only  the  girl  that  was  on  your 
nerves  ?  "  said  Dalrymple  in  disgust. 

"  And  wasn't  that  enough  ?  If  I'm  a  different 
man  to-day,  you  know  the  reason  why.  As  for 
being  happy  in  my  position,  and  all  that,  I'm 
simply  in  paradise  at  this  moment.  Think  of  it ! 
Think  of  me  as  I  was,  and  look  at  me  as  I  am ; 
think  of  my  little  hut  on  Carara,  and  look  be- 
hind you  at  Maske  Towers  !  " 

They  were  on  the  terrace  now,  leaning  idly 


THE   CAT  AND   THE  MOUSE  249 

against  the  balustrade.  Dairy mple  turned  and 
looked :  like  Melrose  Abbey,  the  grand  grey 
building  was  at  its  best  in  the  "pale  moon- 
light " ;  the  lichened  embrasures  met  the  soft 
sky  softly ;  the  piercing  spires  were  sheathed  in 
darkness ;  and  the  mountainous  pile  wore  one 
uniform  tint,  from  which  the  lighted  windows 
stood  out  like  pictures  on  a  wall.  Dalrymple 
looked,  and  looked  again;  then  his  hard  eyes 
fell  upon  the  rude  ecstasy  of  the  face  beside 
him  ;  and  they  were  less  hard  than  before. 

"  You  may  make  yourself  easy,"  said  the 
squatter.     "I  shan't  stay  long." 

"  What  the  blazes  do  you  mean  ?  "  cried  Jack. 
"I  want  you  to  stay  as  long  as  ever  you  can." 

"  You  may ;  your  friends  do  not." 

"  Hang  my  friends  !  " 

"I  should  enjoy  nothing  better;  but  it  isn't 
practicable.  Besides,  they're  a  good  deal  more 
than  your  friends  now;  they  are  —  her  people. 
And  they  don't  like  the  man  who  was  once  your 
boss  ;  he  offends  their  pride " 

"  Mr.  Dalrymple " 

"  Enough  said,  my  boy.  I  know  my  room,  and 
I'm  going  to  turn  in.  We'll  talk  it  over  again 
in  the  morning  ;  but  my  mind  is  made  up.  Good- 
night!" 

"I'll  come  in  with  you." 


250  ^y  LORD   DUKE 

"  As  you  like." 

They  parted  at  the  visitor's  door. 

"You'll  disappoint  me  cruel  if  you  do  go," 
said  Jack,  shaking  hands.  "  I'm  quite  sure 
you're  mistaken  about  my  friends ;  Olivia,  for 
one,  thinks  no  end  of  you.  However,  as  you 
say,  we  can  talk  it  over  in  the  morning  —  when 
you've  got  to  see  the  pictures  as  well,  and  don't 
you  forget  it!     So  long,  sir,  till  then." 

"So  long,  Jack.  I'll  be  your  man  in  the 
morning,  at  all  events.  And  I  shall  look  for- 
ward to  a  great  treat  in  your  famous  picture- 
gallery." 

But  Jack  was  engaged ;  and  he  realised  it  in 
the  morning  as  he  had  not  done  before.  Olivia 
lured  him  from  the  squatter's  side ;  she  had 
every  intention  of  so  doing.  The  pair  went  for 
a  little  stroll.  Neither  wore  a  watch  ;  the  little 
stroll  lengthened  into  miles;  it  carried  them 
beyond  the  sound  of  the  stable  clock ;  they  for- 
got the  world,  and  were  absurdly  late  for  lunch. 
Lady  Caroline  Sellwood  liad  taken  it  upon  her- 
self to  conduct  the  meal  without  them.  Dal- 
rymple  was  in  his  place ;  his  expression  was 
grimly  cynical ;  he  had  seen  the  pictures,  under 
Claude  Lafont's  skilled  escort,  and,  with  the 
ladies'  permission,  he  v/ould  now  leave  the  table, 
as  he  had  still  to  put  in  his  things. 


THE    CAT  AND   THE   MOUSE  251 

His  tilings!  Was  he  going,  tlien?  Jack's 
knife  and  fork  fell  with  a  clatter. 

"  I  thought  you  knew,"  said  Claude.  "  He  is 
going  up  to  town  by  the  afternoon  train.  I  have 
ordered  the  landau,  as  I  thought  you  would  like 
him  to  go  as  he  came." 

When  Jack  heard  this  he,  too,  left  the  table, 
and  bounded  upstairs.  He  found  Dalrymple 
on  the  point  of  packing  his  dress-clothes,  with 
the  assistance  of  none  other  than  Stebbings. 
Jack  glared  at  the  disrated  butler,  and  ordered 
him  out  of  the  room. 

"I  wouldn't  have  done  that,"  remarked  the 
squatter,  pausing  in  his  work.  "  The  fellow  came 
to  know  if  he  could  do  anything  for  me,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  and  he  has  made  me  a  hand- 
some apology.  He  didn't  ask  me  to  beg  him  off, 
but  I  mean  to  try  my  luck  in  that  way  before  I 


go." 


"You  mustn't  go! " 

"  I  must.     Will  you  forgive  the  old  man?  " 

"  Not  if  you  clear." 

"  My  good  fellow,  this  is  unreasonable " 

"So  it  is,  Mr.  Dalrymple,  on  your  part,"  re- 
joined Jack  warmly.  "It's  too  bad  of  you. 
Bother  Stebbings!  I  shan't  be  hard  on  him, 
you  may  be  sure ;  and  you  mustn't  be  hard  on 
me.     Surely   you   can    make    allowances  for  a 


252  MY  LORD  DUKE 

chap  who's  engaged  to  a  girl  like  mine  ?  I  did 
want  to  speak  to  you  this  morning ;  but  she 
came  first.  I  want  to  speak  to  you  now  —  more 
than  you  suppose.  Mr.  Dalrymple,  I  wasn't 
straight  with  you  last  night;  not  altogether. 
But  I  can't  suffer  steering  crooked ;  it  gives  me 
the  hump ;  and  as  sure  as  I  do  it  I've  got  to  go 
over  the  ground  again.  You  are  the  man  I  owe 
my  all  to ;  I  can't  end  up  crooked  with  you! '" 

Dalrymple  sat  on  the  bedside  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves ;  he  had  turned  up  the  cuffs ;  his  strong 
and  shapely  wrists  lay  along  his  thighs ;  and  his 
grey  eyebrows,  but  not  his  lips,  asked  for  more. 

"  I  mean,"  continued  Jack,  "  about  what  was 
bothering  me  that  day  I  ran  against  you  in 
Devenholme.  It  was  only  the  day  before  yes- 
terday, but  Lord !  it  seems  like  the  week  before 
last." 

And  with  that  he  unfolded,  with  much  rapid 
detail,  the  whole  episode  of  Matthew  Hunt, 
from  the  morning  in  the  stable-yard  to  the  mid- 
night at  the  hut.  The  story  within  that  story 
was  also  told  with  particular  care  and  circum- 
stance ;  but  long  before  the  end  was  reached 
Dalrymple  had  emptied  his  bag  upon  the  bed, 
and  had  himself  rung  to  countermand  the  car- 
riage. He  was  interested;  he  would  stay  an- 
other day. 


THE   CAT  AND    THE   MOUSE  253 

Downstairs  in  the  drawing-room  the  Sellwood 
family  and  Claude  Lafont  were  even  then  con- 
gratulating themselves  upon  the  imminent  de- 
parture of  the  unpopular  guest.  Their  faces 
were  so  many  sights  when  Jack  entered  in  the 
highest  spirits  to  tell  them  of  his  successful 
appeal  to  the  better  feelings  of  "  good  old  Dal- 
rymple,'"  who  after  all  was  not  going  to  leave 
them  just  yet.  Jack  was  out  again  in  an  in- 
stant ;  and  they  next  saw  him,  from  the  draw- 
ing-room windows,  going  in  the  direction  of 
the  hut  with  his  odious  old  friend  at  his  side. 
Whereupon  Claude  Lafont  said  a  strong  thing, 
for  him ;  and  the  most  sensible  of  engaged  young 
women  retired  in  tears  to  her  room. 

"There's  one  thing  you  must  let  me  do,"  Dal- 
rymple  was  saying ;  "  if  you  don't,  I  shall  insist. 
You  must  let  me  have  the  privilege  of  sorting 
that  scoundrel,  Mark  Hunt." 

"  Matthew,"  said  Jack. 

"  Matthew,  then.  I  knew  it  was  one  of  you 
evangelists.'" 

"  What  would  you  do?  "  asked  the  Duke. 

"  See  that  he  annoyed  you  no  more.  And  I'll 
guarantee  that  he  doesn't  if  you'll  leave  him  to 
me." 

"I  didn't  want  to  clear  them  out " 

"  I  think  you  must." 


254  ^^^y  LORD   DUKE 

*'  Or  to  prosecute ;  it's  so  public,  and  a  bit 
revengeful  too." 

"  There  I  agree  with  you.  I'm  not  even  sure 
that  you'd  get  a  conviction.  It  would  be  diffi- 
cult, in  any  case,  and  would  make  a  public 
scandal  of  it,  as  you  say." 

"  Then  I  will  leave  him  to  you.  You're  the 
smartest  man  I  know,  Mr.  Dalrymple,  and  al- 
ways have  been.  What  you  do  will  be  right. 
I'll  bother  my  head  no  more  about  it.  Besides, 
anything  to  keep  you  with  us  a  few  days 
longer ! " 

Dalrymple  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  Jack 
did  not  see  the  gesture,  for  he  was  leading  the 
way  through  the  pines.  A  moment  later  they 
were  at  the  hut. 

The  hut  amused  the  squatter.  He  called  it 
a  colourable  imitation.  But  it  did  not  delight 
him  as  it  had  delighted  Jack ;  the  master  bush- 
man  failed  to  share  his  old  hand's  sentimental 
regard  for  all  that  pertained  to  the  bush.  Dal- 
rymple sat  on  the  bunk  and  smoked  a  cigar,  a 
cynical  spectator  of  some  simple  passages  be- 
tween Jack  and  his  cats.  Livingstone  was 
exhibited  with  great  pride ;  he  had  put  on 
flesh  in  the  old  country ;  at  which  the  squatter 
remarked  that  had  he  stayed  on  Carara,  he 
would  have  put  on  an  ounce  of  lead. 


THE   CAT  AND    THE   MOUSE  255 

"  You're  a  wonderful  man,  Jack ! "  he  ex- 
claimed at  length,  "  I  wouldn't  have  believed 
a  fellow  could  take  a  windfall  as  you  have  done, 
if  I  hadn't  seen  it  with  ray  own  eyes.  I  used 
to  think  of  you  a  good  deal  after  you  had  gone. 
I  thought  of  you  playing  the  deuce  to  any 
extent,  but  I  must  say  I  little  dreamt  of  your 
building  a  bush  hut  to  get  back  to  your  old  way 
of  life !  I  pictured  the  town  crimson  and  the 
country  carmine — both  painted  by  you  —  but 
I  never  imagined  tliis!  " 

And  he  looked  round  the  hut  in  his  amused, 
sardonic  way ;  but  there  was  a  ring  —  or  per- 
haps it  was  only  a  suspicion  —  of  disappoint- 
ment in  his  tone.  The  next  words  were  merely 
perplexed. 

"  And  yet,"  added  Dalrymple,  '■'•  you  profess 
yourself  well  pleased  with  your  lot !  " 

"So  I  am  —  now." 

"  I  begin  to  wish  I  hadn't  changed  my  mind 
about  going  this  afternoon." 

"  Why,  on  earth  ?  " 

"  Because  I  also  begin  —  to  envy  you  !  Come, 
let's  make  tracks  for  the  house ;  I  shall  have 
huts  enough  to  look  at  when  I  go  back  to  the 
place  that  you  need  never  see  again." 

"  But  I  mean  to  see  it  again,"  said  Jack  as  he 
locked  up.     "  I  intend  to  take  my  wife  out,  one 


256  MY  LORD  DUKE 

of  these  days;  we  shall  expect  to  come  on  a 
long  visit  to  Carara ;  and  the  greatest  treat  you 
could  give  me  would  be  to  let  me  ride  my  old 
boundaries  and  camp  in  my  old  hut  for  a  week ! " 

"  Nonsense ;  you  stay  where  you  are,"  was 
the  squatter's  only  comment.  He  seemed  de- 
pressed ;  his  cynical  aplomb  had  quite  deserted 
him.     They  returned  in  silence  to  the  house. 

A  shabby-looking  vehicle  stood  in  front  of 
the  porch ;  the  man  said  that  he  had  brought 
a  gentleman  from  Devenholme,  and  was  to  wait. 
The  Duke  and  Dalrymple  mounted  the  steps 
together.  The  first  person  they  encountered  in 
the  hall  was  Claude  Lafont,  looking  strangely 
scared ;  but  a  new-comer  was  in  the  act  of  tak- 
ing off  his  coat;  and,  as  he  turned  his  face, 
Dalrymple  and  Jack  started  simultaneously. 
Both  knew  the  man.  It  was  Cripps  the  law- 
yer. And  he,  too,  looked  pale,  nervous,  and 
alarmed. 


CHAPTER   XX 


"LOVE  THE   DEBT 


j> 


Olivia  was  not  a  little  tired;  this  was  the 
true  explanation  of  the  tears  which  had  driven 
her  upstairs.  It  was  also  the  one  excuse  she 
saw  for  herself  when  she  thought  the  matter 
over  in  her  own  room.  Jack  had  devoted  the 
whole  morning  to  her;  it  was  the  squatter's 
turn ;  and,  of  course,  Jack  must  invite  whom 
he  liked  to  stay  as  long  as  he  pleased.  To 
think  of  limiting  his  freedom  in  any  such  mat- 
ter at  the  very  outset  of  their  engagement! 
Yet  she  had  been  guilty  of  that  thought ;  but 
she  was  tired ;  she  would  lie  down  for  an  hour. 

She  lay  down  for  two  or  three.  Excitement 
had  worn  her  out.  It  was  after  five  when  she 
awoke  and  went  downstairs.  As  she  did  so 
Claude  and  Cripps  crossed  the  hall  and  put 
on  their  hats.     She  hailed  Claude. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  Jack  ?  " 

"I  think  you'll  find  liim  in  the  little  study 
at  the  end  of  the  library." 
8  257 


258  ^^Y  LORD  DUKE 

"  Thanks." 

Olivia  glanced  at  Cripps.  She  had  never 
met  him.  She  wondered  who  he  was,  and  why 
Claude  did  not  introduce  him  to  her,  and  what 
made  both  of  them  so  glum.  They  hurried  out 
of  the  house  as  though  they  were  afraid  of  her. 
What  could  it  mean  ?  She  would  find  out  from 
Jack;  she  felt  a  renewed  right  to  him  now,  and 
thought  of  hints,  as  she  went,  for  Mr.  Dalrym- 
ple,  if  they  were  still  together.  But  Jack  was 
alone  ;  he  was  sitting  in  the  dejected  attitude  en- 
gendered by  a  peculiarly  long  and  low  arm-chair. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Olivia  briskly. 

"  Well  ?  "  responded  Jack ;  but  he  looked  at 
her  Avithout  rising  and  without  a  smile;  and 
both  omissions  were  unlike  the  lover  and  the 
man. 

"  I  half  expected  to  find  Mr.  Dalrymple  with 
you.  I'm  so  glad  he  isn't!  I  —  it's  my  turn, 
I  think!" 

"  I  haven't  seen  Dalrymple  for  over  an  hour," 
said  Jack,  with  his  heavy,  absent  eyes  upon  her 
all  the  time.     "I  wonder  where  he  is?" 

Olivia  would  not  ask  him  what  the  matter 
was ;  she  preferred  to  find  out  for  herself,  and 
then  tell  Mm.  She  looked  about  her.  On  a 
salver  were  a  decanter  and  three  wine-glasses; 
one  was  unused ;  and  on  the  floor  there  lay  an 


"LOVE    THE  DEBT"  259 

end  of  pink  tape.  She  picked  and  held  it  up 
between  finger  and  thumb. 

"  Lawyers  !  "  she  cried. 

"  Yes,  I've  had  a  solicitor  here." 

"  Not  to  make  your  will  I  " 

"No.  On  a  —  on  a  local  matter.  Don't  look 
at  me  like  that !  It's  nothing  much :  nothing 
new,  at  all  events." 

"  But  you  are  worried." 

She  knelt  beside  his  chair,  and  rested  her 
elbows  on  the  arm,  studying  his  pale  set  pro- 
file.    His  eyes  met  hers  no  longer. 

"  I  am,"  he  admitted ;  "  but  that's  my  own 
fault.    As  I  say  —  it's  nothing  new  !  " 

"Who  was  the  lawyer?" 

"  You  wouldn't  know  him." 

"  I  mean  to  know  who  he  was.     Mr.  Cripps  ?  " 

Jack  did  not  answer.  He  rolled  his  head 
from  side  to  side  against  the  back  of  the  chair. 
His  eyes  remained  fast  upon  the  opposite  wall. 

"It  is  —  the  old  trouble,"  Olivia  whispered. 
"  The  trouble  of  two  nights  ago  !  " 

His  silence  told  her  much.  The  drops  upon 
his  forehead  added  more.  Yet  her  voice  was 
calm  and  undismayed;  it  enabled  him  at  last 
to  use  his  own. 

"  Yes  !  "  he  said  hoarsely.  "  Claude  made  a 
mistake.     It  was  true  after  all !  " 


260  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  Hunt's  story,  darling  ?  " 

"  Hunt's  story.  There  was  an  English  mar- 
riage as  well  as  an  Australian  one.  He  had  a 
wife  at  each  side  of  the  world !  Claude  made 
a  mistake.  He  went  to  the  wrong  church  at 
Chelsea  —  to  a  church  by  the  river.  He  had 
always  thought  it  was  the  parish  church.  It  is 
not.  St.  Luke's  is  the  parish  church,  and  there 
in  the  book  they  have  the  marriage  down  in 
black  and  white.  Cripps  found  it ;  but  he  first 
found  it  somewhere  else,  where  he  says  they 
have  the  records  of  every  marriage  in  the  coun- 
try since  1850.  He  would  have  looked  there 
the  day  Claude  was  up,  but  he  left  it  too  late. 
He  looked  yesterday,  and  found  it,  sure  enough, 
on  the  date  Hunt  gave.  October  22d,  1853. 
And  he  has  been  to  Chelsea  and  seen  it  there. 
So  there's  no  mistake  about  it  this  time  ;  and 
you  see  how  we  stand." 

"  I  see.     My  poor  boy  !  " 

"  It's  Claude  after  all.  Poor  chap,  he's  awfully 
cut  up.  He  blames  himself  so  for  the  mistake 
between  the  two  churches ;  but  Cripps  tells  me 
it  was  the  most  natural  mistake  in  the  world. 
Chelsea  Old  Church  —  that  was  where  Claude 
went.     And  he  says  he'll  never  forgive  himself." 

"  But  I  forgive  him,"  said  Olivia,  with  the  first 
sign  of  emotion  in  her  voice.     She  was  holding 


"LOVE    THE  DEBT"  261 

one  of  his  hands;   her  other  was  in  his  hair. 
Still  he  stared  straight  in  front  of  him. 

"  Of  course  you  forgive  him,"  he  said  gently. 
"  When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  there's  nothing 
to  forgive.  Claude  didn't  make  the  facts.  He 
only  failed  to  discover  them." 

"  I  am  glad  he  did  fail,"  whispered  Olivia. 

"Glad?  You  can't  be  glad!  Why  do  you 
say  that  ?  " 

And  now  he  turned  his  face  to  her,  in  his 
astonishment ;  and  suddenly  it  was  she  who 
could  not  meet  his  gaze. 

"How  can  you  be  glad?"  he  continued  to 
demand. 

"Because  —  otherwise  —  you  would  never  — 
have  —  spoken " 

"  Spoken  ?  Of  course  I  shouldn't !  It's  a 
thousand  pities  I  did.  It  makes  it  all  the  harder 
—  now!" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Surely  you  see  ?  " 

They  had  risen  with  a  common  instinct.  The 
ice  was  broken ;  there  were  no  more  shamefaced 
glances.  The  girl  stood  proudly  at  her  full 
height. 

"I  see  nothing.  You  say  our  engagement 
makes  this  all  the  harder  for  you ;  it  should  be 
just  the  opposite." 


262  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  Will  nothing  make  you  see  ? "  cried  Jack. 
"Oh,  how  am  I  to  say  it?  It  —  it  can't  go  on  — 
our  engagement ! " 

"And  why  not?" 

"  I  am  nothing  —  nobody  —  a  nameless " 

"What  does  it  matter?"  interrupted  Olivia 
passionately.  "Do  you  really  think  it  was  the 
name  I  wanted  after  all  ?  You  pay  me  a  high 
compliment !  I  know  exactly  what  you  mean 
—  know  exactly  what  this  means  to  you.  To 
me  it  makes  no  difference  at  all.  You  are  the 
man  you  have  always  been ;  you  are  the  man  — 
I —  love." 

His  eyes  glistened. 

"  God  bless  you  for  saying  so !  You  are  the 
one  to  love  a  man  the  better  when  he's  down 
on  his  luck.  I  know  that.  Yet  we  must 
never " 

"Never  what?" 

"  Marry." 

" Not — marry? "  She  stared  at  him  in  sheer 
amazement.  "Not  when  we  promised  —  only 
yesterday?  You  may  break  your  word  if  you 
like.     Mine  I  would  never  break ! " 

"  Then  I  must.  It  is  not  to  be  thought  of 
any  more.  Surely  you  see?  It's  not  that  I 
have  lost  the  money  and  the  title ;  oh !  you 
must  see  what  it  is !  " 


"LOVE   THE   DEBT"  263 

"Of  course  I  see.  But  I  don't  allow  the 
objection." 

"Your  people  would  never  hear  of  it  now; 
and  quite  right  too." 

"  My  people !  I  am  of  age.  I  have  a  little 
money  of  ray  own,  enough  for  us  both.  I  can 
do  exactly  what  I  like.  Besides,  I'm  not  so 
sure  about  my  people;  you  don't  know  my 
father  as  I  know  him." 

"  He  is  a  man  of  the  world.  He  would  not 
hear  of  it." 

"  Then  I  must  act  for  myself." 

"  You  must  not !  " 

"I  must.  Do  you  think  I  am  only  a  fair- 
weather  girl?  I  gave  you  my  promise  when  all 
was  different.  I  would  rather  die  than  break 
it  now." 

"  But  I  release  you !  I  set  you  free !  Every- 
thing has  altered.  Oh,  can't  you  put  yourself  in 
my  place  ?  I  should  deserve  shooting  if  I  mar- 
ried you  now.     I  release  you  because  I  must." 

"  And  I  refuse  to  be  released." 

They  regarded  one  another  with  hopeless 
faces.  Their  eyes  were  dim  with  love — yet 
here  they  stood  apart.  This  was  the  dead-lock. 
Nothing  could  come  of  this  contest  of  honour 
against  honour,  of  one  unselfish  love  against 
another.     It  was  like  striking  flint  upon  flint, 


264  M^  LORD  DUKE 

and  steel  upon  steel.  A  gong  sounded  in  the 
distance ;  it  was  the  signal  to  dress  for  dinner. 
Olivia  beat  the  floor  impatiently  with  one  foot ; 
her  lips  trembled ;  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  If  you  cared  for  me,"  she  cried  passionately, 
"  half  as  much  as  you  said  you  did,  you  wouldn't 
be  so  ready  to  lose  me  now!" 

"  If  I  cared  less,"  he  answered,  "  I  would  take 
you  at  your  word  —  God  knows  how  you  tempt 
me  to  !  —  and  you  should  be  my  wife  in  spite  of 
all.  I  would  mind  less  how  I  dragged  you 
down  —  what  became  of  us  in  the  end.  But  I 
love  you  too  well  to  spoil  your  life.  Don't 
you  know  that,  Olivia?" 

"Ah,  yes!    I  know  it!    I  know — I  know " 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  at  last.  He  was 
shaking  all  over.  Her  head  lay  back  upon  his 
shoulder.  He  smoothed  the  hair  from  the  high, 
white  forehead;  he  looked  tenderly  and  long 
into  the  wild  wet  eyes.  His  arm  tightened 
about  her ;  he  could  not  help  it. 

"Sweetheart,"  he  faltered,  "you  must  help 
me  to  be  strong.  It  is  hard  enough  as  it  is. 
Only  help  me,  or  it  will  be  far  harder.  Help 
me  now  —  at  dinner.  I  am  going  to  take  the 
head  of  the  table  for  the  last  time.  Help  me 
by  being  bright!  We  can  talk  afterwards. 
There  is  time  enough.     Only  help  me  now! " 


''LOVE   THE  DEBT"  265 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  whispered  Olivia,  disen- 
gaging herself  from  his  trembling  arms.  "  I  will 
try  to  be  as  brave  as  you.  Oh,  there  is  no  one 
in  the  world  like  you  !  Yes,  do  let  us  talk  about 
it  afterwards ;  there  is  so  much  to  say  and  to 
decide.  But  I  give  you  fair  warning:  I  shall 
never  —  never  —  never  let  you  go.  Darling, 
you  will  need  me  now !  And  I  cannot  give  you 
up  —  much  less  after  this.  Shall  I  tell  you 
why  ?  You  have  gone  the  wrong  way  to  work  ; 
you  have  made  me  love  you  more  than  ever  — 
my  hero  —  my  darling  —  my  all !  " 

She  stood  a  moment  at  the  open  door,  kiss- 
ing her  hand  to  him — a  rosy  flush  upon  her 
face  —  the  great  tears  standing  in  her  eyes. 
Then  she  was  gone.  He  watched  her  down  the 
length  of  the  library  ;  the  stained  windows  dap- 
pled her,  as  she  passed,  with  rubies  and  sap- 
phires, huge  and  watery;  at  the  farther  door 
she  turned,  and  kissed  her  hand  again  —  and 
fled. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

THE   BAR   SINISTER 

It  was  a  close  night ;  the  men  were  smoking 
their  cigarettes  on  the  terrace.  Cripps  was  one 
of  them ;  he  was  staying  the  night ;  he  wished 
himself  a  hundred  miles  away.  But  Francis 
Freke  took  him  in  hand ;  they  disappeared 
together,  and  a  minute  later  the  billiard-room 
windows  burnt  out  of  the  night. 

Mr.  Sellwood  was  left  a  little  in  the  cold. 
Claude  and  Jack  were  pacing  the  terrace  with 
linked  arms  and  lowered  voices,  and  he  wished 
to  speak  to  Jack.  Mr.  Sellwood  knew  all.  He 
was  deeply  sorry  for  Jack,  for  whom  he  had 
done  his  best  at  dinner  by  talking  incessantly 
from  grace  to  grace.  The  Home  Secretary  could 
be  immensely  entertaining  when  he  chose.  He 
had  chosen  to-night,  as  much  for  his  daughter's 
sake  as  for  Jack's.  Olivia  was  his  favourite 
child. 

But  then  Dalrymple  had  not  been  there  to 
heckle  and  insult  his  superior;   he   was   gone 

266 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  267 

nobody  knew  where.  Not  that  he  was  gone  for 
good,  the  luck  stopped  short  of  that.  It  ap- 
peared, however,  that  he  had  been  excluded  by 
a  majority  of  two  to  one  from  the  triangular 
council  in  the  Poet's  Corner.  Since  then  he 
had  not  been  seen ;  but  his  bag  was  still  in  his 
room,  and  it  was  only  another  of  his  liberties  to 
absent  himself  from  dinner  without  a  word. 

Olivia  was  playing  the  piano  in  the  drawing- 
room.  The  windows  were  wide  open,  and  Mr. 
Sellwood  listened  with  his  white  head  bent  in 
sorrowful  perplexity.  The  execution  was  faulty, 
as  usual,  because  Olivia  was  an  idle  musician ; 
but  there  was  feeling  in  her  fingers,  she  had  a 
certain  "  touch,"  and  her  attempts  were  better 
to  listen  to  than  some  performances.  To-night 
they  went  to  her  father's  heart.  The  imperfect 
music  spoke  to  him  with  the  eloquence  of 
broken  words.  It  told  him  of  his  child's  neces- 
sity for  action  in  the  stress  of  her  anguish.  It 
told  him  also  of  her  love ;  and  here  was  this 
poor  fellow  so  taken  up  with  Claude  that  it 
was  impossible  to  say  to  him  what  must  be  said 
as  soon  as  possible. 

Mr.  Sellwood  gave  it  up  for  the  present,  and 
went  to  look  for  his  wife. 

"There's   only  one    more    thing,    old   man," 
Jack  was  saying,  "  and  then  I'm  done.     I  don't 


268  MY  LORD  DUKE 

want  to  load  you  up  to  the  eyes  with  messages 
and  all  that.  But  I  should  like  you  to  take 
care  of  this  little  bit  of  a  key,  and  give  it  to 
her  as  soon  as  ever  you  think  fit.  It  belongs  to 
that  chain  bracelet  business  I  got  her  for  her 
birthday.  As  you  know,  I  first  wanted  to  give 
her  a  ring,  but  she  wouldn't  have  it ;  and  when 
I  changed  it  for  the  bracelet,  which  cost  about 
half  as  many  shillings  as  the  ring  did  pounds, 
I  couldn't  look  poor  Hopgood  in  the  face.  It 
was  such  a  sell  for  him.  So  we  were  going 
back  to-morrow  to  get  that  ring  for  our  engage- 
ment, and  to  look  old  Hopgood  in  the  face. 
That  was  one  of  our  plans ;  we  made  so  many 
when  we  were  out  this  morning !  I  never 
knew  a  morning  go  at  such  a  lick.  But  I  re- 
member it  all  —  I  remember  everything.  I've 
started  going  over  every  word  we've  said,  so 
that  I  shan't  forget  anything.  There's  not 
such  a  vast  lot  to  keep  in  your  head.  Only  a 
day  and  a  half  of  an  engagement;  but  I've  got 
to  live  on  those  thirty  odd  hours  for  the  rest  of 
my  time." 

Claude  looked  away ;  the  drawing-room  win- 
dows were  a  blur  to  his  eyes ;  and  Olivia's  er- 
ratic rendering  of  Chopin  filled  in  the  pause. 
It  was  the  incoherent  expression  of  unutterable 
emotion.     Jack  listened  also,  nodding  time  with 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  269 

his  head.  The  calmness  and  the  nobility  of 
despair  had  settled  on  his  spirit,  as  on  that  of  a 
captain  going  down  with  his  ship. 

He  talked  on,  and  his  tone  was  entirely  his 
own.  It  was  neither  bitter,  querulous,  nor  wil- 
fully pathetic ;  but  chiefly  contemplative,  with 
a  reminiscence  here  and  the  discovery  of  some 
consolation  there.  He  recalled  the  humours  of 
the  situation,  and  laughed  outright  but  staccato, 
as  at  remembered  sayings  of  the  newly  dead. 
Beyond  the  loss  of  Olivia  he  had  little  to 
regret ;  even  that  would  make  another  man  of 
him  for  ever  and  a  day.  (So  he  talked.)  And 
his  English  summer  would  be  something  to 
look  back  on  always  ;  it  was  pleasure  to  the 
good,  which  nothing  could  undo  or  take  away ; 
the  experience  of  a  second  lifetime  had  been 
crammed  into  those  few  weeks.  Let  him  re- 
member that  when  he  got  back  to  the  bush. 
Suppose  he  had  never  left  the  bush  ?  Then  he 
would  never  have  seen  the  old  country,  and 
seen  it  (as  he  said)  from  the  front  seats ;  he 
would  never  have  found  his  own  soul,  nor  known 
the  love  of  a  lovely  girl,  nor  the  joy  of  life  as  he 
knew  it  now.  So  he  was  really  to  be  congratu- 
lated to  the  end ;  there  was  no  occasion  to  pity 
him  at  all. 

Claude,  however,  was  not  comforted  ;  he  had 


270  MY  LORD   DUKE 

never  been  so  wretched  in  his  life.  And  he 
showed  it  so  plainly,  and  was  withal  so  con- 
scious of  the  display,  that  he  felt  quite  sure 
that  Jack's  ingenious  consolations  were  not 
meant  entirely  for  Jack.  He  was  ashamed  of 
himself  on  this,  as  on  every  other  score.  He 
was  to  blame  for  the  whole  business,  since  it 
was  he  who  had  scoured  Australia  for  the  Red 
Marquis's  son.  Nor  could  he  believe  the  other's 
protestations  of  personal  solace  and  resignation; 
they  had  been  made  with  wistful  glances  at 
the  lighted  windows,  glances  that  Claude  had 
seen  as  they  both  leant  back  against  the  balus- 
trade. 

"  Aha  !  "  said  Jack  suddenly.  "  Here  are  Mr. 
Sellwood  and  Lady  Caroline  coming  to  have 
it  out  with  me.  Better  leave  me  to  them,  -old 
man." 

"  All  right,"  said  Claude,  "  but  we  have  lots 
more  to  talk  about.  Where  can  I  find  you,  and 
when?" 

Jack  hesitated;  the  Sellwoods  were  within 
earshot  as  he  whispered,  "  Twelve  o'clock  at  the 
hut !  "  And  Claude  walked  away,  with  his 
hand  aching  from  a  sudden  and  most  crushing 
grip. 

"  My  wife  and  I  would  like  to  speak  to  you," 
said   the    Home   Secretary,  halting  in  front  of 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  271 

Jack  with  Lady  Caroline  on  his  arm.  "My 
dear  fellow,  we  are  so  very  sorry  for  you :  we 
know  everything." 

"Everything!"  echoed  Lady  Caroline,  with 
slow  dramatic  force. 

"  Thanks  to  Jack,"  put  in  her  husband  sharply ; 
"  it  was  he  who  gave  instructions  that  we  should 
be  told  at  once.  It  was  so  very  good  of  you. 
Jack,* my  boy,  to  think  of  us  in  your  trouble. 
You  have  behaved  splendidly  all  through  ;  that's 
what  makes  us  all  feel  this  so  keenly ;  and  I  am 
quite  sure  that  you  will  behave  nobly  now.  My 
dear  fellow,  it  isn't  the  fact  of  your  not  being 
the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's  that  forces  me  to  take 
this  tone ;  it's  the  unfortunate  circumstances  of 
your  birth,  which  have  now  been  proved,  I  am 
afraid,  beyond  the  possibility  of  that  doubt 
which  nobody  would  welcome  more  thankfully 
than  myself.  We  are  all  very  fond  of  you.  I 
for  one  have  learned  to  admire  you  too.  But 
this  most  miserable  discovery  must  alter  every- 
thing except  our  feeling  towards  you.  We  are 
bound  to  consider  our  daughter." 

"Our   youngest   child,"  said  Lady  Caroline. 
"  Our  ewe  lamb !  " 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Jack.     "  I  see  what  you 
mean.     What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  It  may  seem  very  hard,"  said  Mr.  Sellwood, 


272  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"but  we  wish  you  to  release   Olivia  from  her 
engagement." 

"  To  release  her  instantly ! "  cried  Lady 
Caroline. 

"I  have  done  that  already,"  said  Jack  with 
some  disdain.  "  Did  you  really  think,  sir,  that 
I  should  wait  to  be  told  ?  " 

Mr.  Sellwood  muttered  an  oath  as  he  held  out 
his  hand. 

"  I  have  made  a  mistake ;  I  hope  you  will 
forgive  me,"  he  said ;  and  his  hand  was  crushed 
in  its  turn. 

"  And  what  did  she  say  ? "  asked  Lady 
Caroline. 

"  She  refused  to  be  released." 

"  I  knew  it !  George,  the  girl  is  mad.  And 
pray  what  do  you  propose  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  think  I  ought  to  do  ?  " 

"Ought?"  cried  Lady  Caroline.  "I  think 
you  ought  to  go  away  and  never  see  her  again  !  " 

"  Or,  rather,  let  us  take  her  away,"  said  Mr. 
Sellwood.  "  It  may  seem  hard  and  abominable, 
but  there's  no  doubt  that  from  our  point  of  view 
a  separation  is  the  most  desirable  course." 

"It  is  hard,"  replied  Jack;  "but,  as  it  hap- 
pens, it's  the  very  plan  I  hit  on  for  myself.  Not 
a  word,  sir,  if  you  please.  You're  perfectly  right. 
She  could  not  marry  me  now;  and  I  would  not 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  273 

many  her,  knowing  what  T  am.  It's  out  of  the 
question  altogether.  But  Olivia  is  quite  on  to 
do  it  —  at  least  she  thought  she  was  before  din- 
ner. I  haven't  seen  her  since.  I'm  not  going 
to  see  her  again.  She's  just  the  sort  of  angel 
who  would  swap  heaven  for  hell  to  stand  by 
the  man  she  was  fond  of !  But  she  mustn't  be 
let.  I  agree  with  you  there.  It  was  the  first 
thing  I  thought  of  myself.  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  clear  out ;  and,  if  you  want  to  know,  I'm 
off  now." 

"  Now !  "  cried  Mr.  Sell  wood. 

Lady  Caroline  said  nothing. 

"Yes,  now;  there's  no  more  to  be  said;  and 
the  sooner  I  get  it  over  the  better  for  all  con- 
cerned." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  where  are  you  going, 
and  what  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  Have  you 
made  an}^  plans  ?  I  wouldn't  do  anything  in  a 
hurry  if  I  were  you ;  we're  a  family  party  here ; 
and  all  our  wits  put  together  would  surely  be 
better  than  yours !  We  might  fix  up  something 
between  us." 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"  You're  very  kind,"  he  said ;  "  but  it's  all 
fixed  up.  I'm  going  straight  back  to  the  bush. 
This  is  Thursday ;  I  can't  catch  to-morrow's 
steamer,  but  I  can  do  better.     I  can  take  the 

X 


274  MY  LORD  DUKE 

overland  express  to-morrow  night,  and  join  last 
week's  boat  at  Brindisi.  I'm  going  to  sleep  the 
night  —  never  mind  where.  I  don't  want  old 
Claude  on  my  tracks ;  I've  said  good-bye  to  him 
too,  though  he  doesn't  know  it  either.  He  wants 
to  do  too  much  for  me  altogether.  If  you  stay 
up  with  him  till  twelve,  he'll  tell  you  he's  got 
to  look  me  up  at  the  hut ;  and  you  may  tell  him, 
sir,  if  you'll  be  so  good,  to  sit  tight,  for  he  won't 
find  me  there.  Say  good-bye  to  him  for  me,  and 
tell  him  he's  been  the  best  mate  I've  ever  struck  ; 
but  don't  let  him  come  up  and  see  me  off. 
Cripps  I'm  to  meet  in  town.  I'm  going  to  let 
them  finance  me  out  again,  since  they  fetched 
me  home  in  the  beginning ;  but  not  another  red 
cent  will  I  touch.  Why  should  I  ?  I've  had  a 
good  run  for  my  money  —  that  is,  for  theirs. 
I'm  no  worse  off  than  I  was  before.  I  should 
even  be  sure  of  the  same  old  billet  on  Carara 
that  used  to  suit  me  well  enough,  if  I  only  could 
see  Mr.  Dalrymple  before  I  start ;  but  I'm  both- 
ered if  I  know  where  he's  got  to." 

Mr.  Sell  wood  was  heavy  with  thought;  his 
wife  had  left  them ;  and  he  had  heard  a  sob  in  her 
throat  as  she  turned  away.  He  had  an  inkling 
of  her  treatment  of  this  poor  fellow ;  he  did  not 
know  everything,  but  he  knew  enough  to  hail 
his  wife's  sob  with  a  thankful  thrill.     So  there 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  275 

was  a  heart  in  her  somewhere  still !  He  had 
thought  otherwise  for  some  years ;  in  another 
moment  he  doubted  it  once  more.  Lady  Caro- 
line appeared  at  the  drawing-room  window,  shut 
it,  and  drew  down  the  blind.  And  yet  —  and 
yet  her  husband  had  himself  been  wishing  for 
somebody  to  do  that  very  thing ! 

Olivia  was  still  at  the  piano,  and  her  perform- 
ance had  sounded  a  little  too  near  at  hand  until 
now.  It  was  near  enough  still;  but  the  shut- 
ting of  the  window  deadened  the  sound.  Chopin 
had  merged  into  Mendelssohn.  Olivia  happened 
to  be  note-perfect  in  one  or  two  of  the  Lieder. 
Her  father  had  never  heard  her  play  them  so 
well.  But  Jack  had  no  music  in  his  soul  — 
could  not  whistle  two  bars  in  tune  —  and  though, 
even  while  speaking,  he  listened  visibly,  it  was 
not  to  the  music  as  music,  but  to  the  last  sound 
of  Olivia  he  was  ever  to  hear.  Her  footstep  in 
the  distance  would  have  done  as  well. 

"  I  wouldn't  go  to-night,  old  fellow,"  the  Home 
Secretary  said  at  length.  "  I  see  no  point  in  it. 
To-morrow  would  be  time  enough." 

"  Ah,  you  must  think  I  find  it  easy  work ! " 
exclaimed  Jack,  a  little  bitterly  for  once.  "  It's 
not  so  easy  as  all  that:  it's  got  to  be  done 
at  once,  when  you're  screwed  up  to  it,  or  it  may 
never  come  off  at  all.     Don't  you  try  to  keep 


276  MY  LORD  DUKE 

me  ;  don't  let  anybody  else  try  either !  Let  me 
go  while  I'm  on  to  go  —  alone.  I  might  take  it 
different  to-morrow ! " 

He  spoke  hoarsely ;  the  voice  was  as  signifi- 
cant as  the  words.  Mr.  Sellwood  was  impressed 
by  both ;  he  followed  the  other  to  the  nearest 
flight  of  steps  leading  down  to  the  lawn. 

"  Let  me  come  with  you,"  he  urged.  "  Surely 
there  is  something  one  can  do !  And  I've  never 
seen  the  hut ;  I  should  like  to." 

"  Wait  till  I've  gone,"  was  the  reply.  "I  want 
you  to  stand  in  my  tracks  and  block  anybody 
from  following  me.  Head  them  another  way ! 
Only  give  me  quarter  of  an  hour  to  clear  out  of 
the  hut,  and  another  quarter's  start,  and  I'm  — 
and  I'm " 

He  lost  himself  in  a  sudden  absence  of  mind. 
The  music  had  stopped,  and  the  night  seemed 
insolently  still.  Jack  was  half-way  down  the 
steps ;  the  Home  Secretary  leaned  over  the 
balustrade  above.     Jack  reached  up  his  hand. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Sellwood,  hesitating,  kept  his  hand.  The 
window  that  had  been  shut  was  thrown  up  again. 

"  Papa,  is  that  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  my  dear." 

Mr.  Sellwood  had  turned  round. 

"  And  where  is  Jack  ?  " 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  £77 

"  Not  here,"  \vhisj)ered  Jack. 

"Not  here,"  repeated  Mr.  Sell  wood;  and, 
looking  behind  him,  he  found  that  he  had 
spoken  the  truth. 

"Then  I'm  coming  down  to  you,  and  you 
must  help  me " 

Jack  lost  the  rest  as  he  ran.  He  thousfht  he 
heard  his  own  name  again,  but  he  was  not  sure. 
He  stopped  under  the  nearest  tree.  Mercifully 
there  was  no  moon.  Olivia  could  not  have  seen 
him,  for  he  himself  could  see  no  more  of  the 
Towers  than  the  lighted  windows  and  their  re- 
flections upon  the  terrace.  On  that  dim  stage 
the  silhouette  of  Mr.  Sellwood  was  still  discern- 
ible :  another  joined  it :  the  two  figures  became 
one :  and  in  the  utter  stillness  not  only  the  girl's 
sobs  but  her  father's  broken  words  were  audible 
under  the  tree. 

Jack  fled. 

He  ran  hard  to  the  hut,  and  lighted  it  up  as 
it  had  never  been  lighted  before.  He  cut  up  a 
candle  in  half-inch  sections,  and  stuck  them  all 
over  with  their  own  grease.  Thoroughness  was 
an  object  as  well  as  despatch ;  nothing  must  be 
missed ;  but  his  first  act  was  to  change  his 
clothes.  He  put  on  the  ready-made  suit  and 
the  wideawake  in  which  he  had  landed ; 
he    had    kept    them    in    the    hut.      Then    he 


278  -^^y  LORD  DUKE 

pulled  from  under  the  bunk  tlie  cage  his  cats 
had  travelled  in,  and  he  bundled  the  cats  into 
it  once  more.  Lastly  he  rolled  up  his  swag, 
less  neatly,  perhaps,  than  of  old,  but  with  the 
blue  blanket  outermost  as  before,  and  the  little 
straps  reefed  round  it  and  buckled  tight.  He 
would  want  these  things  in  the  bush  ;  besides, 
the  whim  was  upon  him  to  go  exactly  as  he  had 
come.  Only  one  item  of  his  original  impedi- 
menta he  decided  to  leave  behind :  the  old  bush 
saddle  would  be  a  needless  encumbrance;  but 
with  his  swag,  and  his  cats,  and  his  wideawake, 
he  set  forth  duly,  after  blowing  out  all  the  candle 
ends. 

The  night  seemed  darker  than  ever ;  neither 
moon  nor  star  was  to  be  seen,  and  Jack  had  to 
stop  and  consider  when  he  got  outside.  He 
desired  to  strike  a  straight  line  to  the  gates ; 
he  knew  how  they  lay  from  the  hut,  though  he 
had  never  been  over  the  ground  before.  To  a 
bushman,  however,  even  without  a  star  to  help 
him,  such  a  task  could  present  no  difficulties. 
He  computed  the  distance  at  something  less 
than  a  mile ;  but  in  Australia  he  had  gone  as 
the  crow  flies  through  league  upon  league  of 
untrodden  scrub.  Out  there  he  had  enjoyed 
the  reputation  of  being  "  a  good  bushman,"  and 
he  meant  to  enjoy  it  again. 


THE  BAR   SINISTER  279 

But  his  head  was  hot  with  other  thoughts,  and 
he  was  out  of  practice.  Instead  of  hitting  the 
wall,  and  following  it  up  to  the  gates,  as  he  in- 
tended, he  erred  the  other  way,  and  came  out 
upon  the  drive  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
house.  This  was  a  false  start,  indeed,  and  a 
humiliation  also ;  but  his  thoughts  had  strayed 
back  to  Olivia,  and  it  was  as  if  his  feet  had 
followed  their  lead.  He  would  think  of  her 
no   more  to-night. 

The  drive  was  undesirable,  for  obvious  reasons ; 
still  it  was  the  safest  policy  to  keep  to  it  now, 
and  the  chances  were  that  he  would  meet  no- 
body. Yet  he  did;  a  footstep  first,  and  then 
the  striking  of  a  match,  came  to  his  ears  as  he 
was  nearing  the  gates.  He  crept  under  the 
trees.  The  match  was  struck  again,  and  yet 
again,  before  it  lit.  Then  Jack  came  out  of  hid- 
ing, and  strode  forward  without  further  qualms, 
for  the  flame  was  lighting  the  cigar  and  illumin- 
ing the  face  of  his  friend  Dalrymple. 

"  Hallo,  sir ! "  began  Jack,  "  I'd  given  you 
up." 

"  Why,  Jack,  is  that  you  ?  I  can't  see  an  inch 
front  of  my  cigar,"  said  the  squatter,  as  the 
match  burnt  itself  out  on  the  gravel  where  it 
had  been  thrown. 

"  Yes,  it's  me  ;  where  have  you  been  ?  " 


280  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"  Mine  first,"  said  Jack. 

"  All  right.  I've  been  talking  to  Master  Hunt. 
Now  where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Back  to  Australia  ! " 

Jack  waited  for  an  exclamation ;  for  some 
seconds  there  was  none ;  then  the  squatter 
laughed  softly  to  himself. 

"  I  thought  as  much  !  "  said  he.  "  I  knew 
exactly  what  the  lawyer  came  to  say,  for  I  saw 
it  in  his  face.  Now  tell  me,  and  we'll  see  if  I'm 
right." 

And  it  appeared  that  he  was,  by  the  way  in 
which  he  kept  nodding  his  head  as  Jack  told  him 
all.  Meanwhile  they  had  retired  under  the  trees, 
and  by  the  red  end  of  his  cigar  the  squatter 
had  seen  Jack's  wideawake ;  using  his  cigar  as 
a  lantern  he  had  examined  the  cage  of  cats ; 
whereon  his  face  would  have  proved  a  suffi- 
ciently severe  commentary  had  there  been  any 
other  light  for  Jack  to  see  it  by. 

"Now,"  said  Dalrymple,  "stand  tight.  Tve 
got  something  to  tell  i/ou,  my  boy  !  "  And  he 
told  it  in  the  fewest  whispered  words. 

Jack  was  speechless. 

"  Nonsense !  I  don't  believe  it,"  he  cried 
when  he  found  his  tongue. 

"  But  I'm  in  a  position  to  prove  it,"  replied 


THE  BAR  SINISTER  281 

the  squatter.  "  I'll  give  you  a  particular  or  two 
as  we  walk  back  to  the  house.  What!  you 
hesitate  ?  Come,  come  ;  surely  my  word  is  good 
enough  for  that !  Do  be  sensible ;  leave  your 
infernal  cats  where  they  are,  and  come  you  along 
with  me ! " 


CHAPTER   XXII 

DE  MORTUIS 

The  Home  Secretary  had  never  spent  a  more 
uncomfortable  hour.  His  favourite  daughter 
had  stanched  her  tears,  and  gone  straight  to  the 
root  of  the  very  delicate  matter  at  issue  between 
them.  Much  as  her  tears  had  depressed  him, 
however,  Mr.  Sellwood  preferred  them  to  the 
subsequent  attitude.  It  was  too  independent 
for  his  old-fashioned  notions,  and  yet  it  made 
him  think  all  the  more  of  Olivia.  Indeed  she 
was  her  father's  child  in  argument — spirited  and 
keen  and  fair.  His  point  of  view  she  took  for 
granted,  and  proceeded  to  expound  her  own. 
Much  that  she  said  was  unanswerable ;  a  little 
made  him  fidget  —  for  between  the  sexes  there 
is  no  such  shyness  as  that  which  a  father  finds 
in  his  heart  towards  his  grown-up  girls.  But  a 
certain  bluntness  of  speech  was  not  the  least 
refreshing  trait  in  Olivia's  downright  character, 
and  decidedly  this  was  not  a  matter  to  be 
glossed  over  with  synonyms  for  a  spade.     She 

282 


DE  MORTUIS  283 

wanted  to  know  how  the  circumstances  of  the 
birth  affected  the  value  of  the  man — and  so 
forth.  Mr.  Sellwood  replied  as  a  man  of  the 
world,  and  detested  his  replies.  But  the  worst 
was  his  guilty  knowledge  of  Jack's  flight.  This 
made  him  detest  himself ;  it  made  him  lie ;  and 
it  filled  him  with  a  relief  greater  than  his  sur- 
prise when  voices  came  out  of  the  darkness  of 
the  drive,  and  one  of  them  was  Jack's. 

Olivia  ran  forward. 

"At  last!     Oh,  Jack,  where  have  you  been?" 

Mr.  Sellwood  never  heard  the  answer ;  he  was 
bristling  at  the  touch  of  Dairy mple,  who  had  led 
him  aside. 

"  Entirely  my  doing,"  explained  the  squatter  ; 
"but  I  can  justify  it.  I  mean  to  do  so  at  once. 
Am  I  right  in  understanding  the  bar  sinister  to 
be  your  only  objection  to  our  friend  ?  " 

"You  may  put  it  so,"  said  Mr.  Sellwood 
shortly. 

"  Then  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  removing 
the  objection :  the  bar  doesn't  exist." 

"  Your  grounds  for  thinking  so,  Mr.  Dal- 
rymple  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think.  I  know.  And  I'm  here  to 
prove  what  I  know.  Good  heavens,  do  you 
suppose  he  was  no  more  to  me  than  one  of  my 
ordinary  station  hands?     He  was  the  son  —  at 


284  MY  LORD  DUKE 

all  events,  the  stepson  —  of  one  of  my  oldest 
friends." 

"  The  stepson !  May  I  ask  the  name  of  your 
friend?" 

"  It  is  unnecessary.  You  have  guessed  it.  I 
have  a  good  deal  to  explain.  Where  can  we 
go?  I  should  like  Lafont  and  Cripps  to  hear 
what  I've  got  to  say.  Cripps  especially  —  he 
will  be  able  to  check  half  my  facts." 

"  I  think  we  ought  all  to  hear  them,"  remarked 
Sellwood ;  "we  are  all  interested  and  concerned." 

"  You  mean  the  ladies  ?  I  would  rather  not ; 
you  can  tell  them  afterwards ;  and  as  to  the 
young  lady,  you  may  make  your  mind  easy  about 
her.  If  that  was  the  only  obstacle,  I  undertake 
to  remove  it.  You  can  afford  to  trust  her  out  of 
your  sight." 

"  I  shall  mind  my  own  business,"  snapped  the 
Home  Secretary;  nevertheless,  he  led  the  way 
indoors  with  no  more  than  a  glance  towards 
Olivia  and  her  lover,  who  were  still  within  hail ; 
and  five  minutes  later,  as  many  gentlemen  were 
empanelled  in  the  billiard-room.  Claude  and 
Cripps  and  Mr.  Sellwood  occupied  the  couches 
at  one  end ;  Francis  Freke  palpitated  in  a  cor- 
ner ;  and  Dalrymple  leant  against  the  table,  his 
legs  crossed,  his  arms  folded,  a  quiet  smile  upon 
his  face.     He  was  waiting  for  a  clock  over  the 


DE  MORTUIS  285 

chimney-piece  to  finish  striking;  the  hour  was 
eleven. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  he  began,  "  I  shall  not  de- 
tain you  many  minutes.  I  have  certain  state- 
ments to  make,  and  any  proofs  that  you  may 
want  I  shall  be  happy  to  supply  to-morrow  or 
any  time  you  like.  Those  statements  will 
ignore,  as  far  as  possible,  my  own  relations  with 
the  notorious  Lord  Maske.  These  I  shall  ex- 
plain later,  and  you  will  then  understand  why 
I  have  hitherto  held  my  peace  concerning  them. 
I  have  known  all  along  that  our  friend  outside 
—  shall  we  call  him  John  Dillamore  ?  —  was  not 
and  never  could  be  the  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's ; 
and  though  Mr.  Cripps  may  look  as  black  as  his 
boots,  he  never  consulted  my  opinion  when  he 
took  John  Dillamore  away  from  my  station,  and 
it  was  no  business  of  mine  to  interfere.  Mr. 
Cripps  seemed  sufficiently  positive  about  the 
matter;  and,  knowing  what  I  know,  I  really 
don't  blame  Mr.  Cripps.  But  this  by  the  way. 
I  shall  fii-st  confine  myself  to  those  incidents  in 
the  Marquis's  career,  of  which,  occurring  as 
they  did  at  the  antipodes,  and  as  long  ago  as 
the  fifties,  very  little  has  hitherto  been  known 
here  in  England.  And  I  repeat  that  I  shall 
afterwards  be  prepared  to  prove  every  word  I 
am  about  to  say. 


286  ^^Y  LORD    DUKE 

"  The  Marquis  of  Maske  landed  in  Melbourne 
in  the  early  part  of  1854.  There  for  a  time  he 
cut  a  great  dash,  spent  an  enormous  quantity  of 
money,  and  indeed  reached  the  end  of  his  re- 
sources by  the  middle  of  the  year.  He  then 
tried  his  luck  on  the  Ballarat  gold-fields,  but  his 
luck  was  out.  At  the  diggings  he  sailed  under 
an  alias,  and  under  an  alias  he  drifted  to  Tas- 
mania as  early  as  July,  1854.  And  at  Hobart 
Town,  as  it  was  then  called,  he  met  the  lady  for 
whose  sake  he  broke,  though  unwittingly,  one 
of  the  criminal  laws  of  his  native  land. 

"  Now,  I  happen  to  know  a  good  deal  about 
that  lady;  but  the  more  impersonally  one  enters 
into  details  of  this  kind  the  more  chance  has  one 
of  making  such  details  perfectly  clear  to  you. 
As  it  is  you  will  find  some  little  complications 
here  and  there.  But  I  shall  do  my  best  to  pre- 
sent them  as  intelligibly  as  possible  ;  and  where  I 
fail,  you  will  perhaps  make  a  note  of  the  point, 
and  call  my  attention  to  it  presentl}'-.  The  lady's 
name  was  Greenfield.  Mrs.  Greenfield  was  a 
young  widow  with  one  male  child ;  but  not,  as 
you  might  suppose,  a  young  widow  with  money. 
And  the  Marquis  married  her  at  Hobart  under 
peculiar,  and  really  rather  extenuating  circum^ 
stances. 

"  Of  course,  he  had  a  wife  all  the  time.     You 


DE  MORTUIS  287 

know  all  about  that.  It  has  leaked  out  through 
another  channel  —  a  channel  I  happen  to  have 
spent  the  last  few  hours  in  exploring.  I  have 
only  just  returned  from  the  Lower  Farm.  I 
find  the  first  wife  died  in  1860.  But  you  may 
take  my  word  for  one  thing :  her  husband  had 
reason  to  believe  she  was  already  dead  when 
he  married  for  the  second  time  in  1854. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Eliza  Hunt,  as  she  was 
called,  was  actually  at  death's  door  in  June  of 
the  latter  year.  On  a  day  of  which  she  was  not 
expected  to  see  the  close,  the  late  Duke  wrote  to 
his  son  (I  happen  to  possess  the  letter,  Mr. 
Cripps),  telling  him,  with  perhaps  a  pardonable 
satisfaction,  that  the  end  was  only  a  question  of 
hours ;  and  making  certain  overtures  which  I 
fear  only  excited  Lord  Maske's  contempt  and 
disdain.  The  Marquis  did  not  profess  to  be  a 
pious  man  ;  his  father  did.  They  had  parted  in 
anger,  and  in  anger  Maske  tore  up  his  father  s 
letter ;  but  I  collected  the  fragments,  and  pre- 
served them  —  and  I  shall  justify  that  before  I'm 
done.  Maske  tore  the  letter  to  little  bits.  But 
that  very  week  he  married  again  on  the  strength 
of  it.  And  I  needn't  tell  you  there  was  trouble 
when  the  next  mail  came  in  !  The  woman  was 
still  alive ;  though  still  hopelessly  —  or  rather 
hopefully  —  ill. 


288  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"So  the  couple  in  Tasmania  lay  low  until 
their  child  was  born  —  an  event  which  proved 
fatal  to  the  mother,  and  brought  the  Marquis  up 
with  a  round  turn,  as  the  saying  is.  He  was,  as 
you  may  have  heard,  a  very  heartless  man  ;  but 
I  happen  to  know  that  he  was  reasonably  fond 
of  his  second  wife,  and  reasonably  grieved  at  her 
death.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  drove  him  almost 
crazy  at  the  time,  and  embittered  him  for  the 
rest  of  his  days.  The  point  is,  however,  that  he 
was  thus  left  with  two  boys  —  a  new-born  weak- 
ling and  an  absolutely  hardy  child  of  two,  the 
issue  of  its  mother's  first  —  and  only  legal  — 
marriage.  The  weakling  he  registered  as  he 
would  have  done  had  the  marriage  been  really 
valid ;  and,  mark  you,  for  all  he  knew  it  might 
be  valid  still.  After  that  second  letter,  saying 
that  the  English  wife  was  still  hopelessly  ill,  he 
never  heard  again,  either  as  to  her  recovery  or 
her  death,  until  the  latter  occurred  some  few 
years  later.  But  it  might  have  occurred  while 
the  second  letter  was  still  on  the  sea,  for  it 
was  only  a  month  behind  the  first,  and  they 
took  two  or  three  months  coming  in  those  days. 
And  this  is  a  point  worth  noting,"  said  Dal- 
rymple,  uncrossing  his  arms,  and  for  the  first 
time  making  a  gesture. 

"  It  is  a  nice  point,"  conceded  Mr.  Sellwood. 


DE   MORTUIS  289 

"  In  a  nasty  stoiy !  "  cried  the  squatter,  with 
his  sardonic  laugh.  "  No,  not  quite  that ;  it's 
too  strong  a  word.  Still  I  am  not  here  to  white- 
wash the  Marquis  of  Maske ;  indeed,  the  next 
feature  of  the  case  is  wholly  indefensible.  You 
must  know  that  all  this  time  the  exile  nourished 
the  most  venomous  feelings  towards  his  family 
in  general  and  the  old  Duke  in  particular.  Un- 
lovely as  they  were,  however,  I  still  think  there 
was  some  excuse  for  such  sentiments  ;  the  boy 
had  been  harshly  treated  ;  he  was  literally  forced 
to  desert  his  first  wife  ;  had  they  lived  together, 
in  England  or  elsewhere,  not  a  penny-piece 
would  have  been  theirs  until  the  death  of  the 
Duke.  Hence  the  silence  of  the  Hunts  —  for 
the  consideration  you  wot  of.  It  wasn't  the  sort 
of  arrangement  that  would  have  gone  on  very 
long  had  the  woman  lived,  or  left  a  child ;  but 
she  died  childless,  as  you  know ;  and  the  Hunts' 
subsequent  policy  was  obvious  even  to  the 
Hunts.  Nor  was  it  an  arrangement  calculated 
to  increase  a  young  man's  respect  for  his  father ; 
in  the  case  of  Maske  it  intensified  contempt, 
and  created  the  craving  for  revenge.  I  have 
heard  him  speak  so  often  of  that  revenge  !  He 
would  spring  an  Australian  heir  upon  the  family; 
that  was  his  first,  and,  as  you  know,  his  very 
last  idea.     He  even  spoke  of  it,  as  I  understand. 


290  MY  LORD  DUKE 

in  the  letter  that  was  pinned  to  the  tree  under 
which  he  was  found  dead  in  the  bush !  You  see 
it  was  his  dominant  idea  in  life.  But  the  heir 
he  spoke  of  was  not  his  son  at  all.  And  that's 
the  indefensible  feature  of  which  I  spoke." 

"  If  not  his  son,  who  was  he,  pray  ? "  asked 
Cripps,  with  indignant  incredulity  ;  for  his  own 
repute  was  in  question  here. 

The  squatter  smiled.  "Can  you  ask?  The 
elder  of  the  two  boys ;  the  son  of  Mrs.  Greenfield 
by  her  first  marriage,"  he  quietly  replied. 

"  And  what  of  his  own  son  ?  " 

"  Dead." 

"  You  will  find  that  difficult  to  prove ! "  cried 
the  lawyer  hotly. 

"  Yes?  I  think  not;  he  died  in  Sydney,  where 
the  father  migrated  after  the  mother's  death ;  he 
was  dead  within  six  months  of  his  birth.  You  saw 
the  certificate  of  the  birth  in  Hobart,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  did." 

"  Then  here  is  that  of  the  death ;  better  keep 
it ;  you  will  have  more  use  for  it  than  I." 

And  the  squatter  turned  round,  and  rolled  the 
red  ball  up  and  down  the  board,  with  his  quiet 
sinister  smile,  while  the  men  on  the  lounges 
examined  the  document  he  had  put  in  the 
solicitor's  hands. 

"  It  looks  all  right,"  said  Cripps  at  length,  in 


DE  MORTUIS  291 

a  tone  that  made  Dalrymple  laugh  heartily  as 
he  faced  about. 

"It  looks  all  right,  eh?  That's  all  right! 
Mr.  Cripps,  your  discernment  —  but  excuse  me! 
We  are  not  here  to  bark  and  bite  ;  we  are  here 
to  clear  up  a  mystery,  at  least  I  am.  Is  there 
any  other  point,  gentlemen,  which  I  can  eluci- 
date before  we  go  any  further  ?  " 

"  I  think  there  is  one,"  said  Claude,  speaking 
nervously.  "I  have  seen  the  last  letter  my 
uncle  wrote,  in  which  he  mentioned  an  heir.  I 
presume,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  revenge  you 
speak  of,  he  called  the  living  child  by  the  dead 
child's  name " 

"Exactly.  He  did  it  deliberately.  I  was 
coming  to  that." 

"But  he  seemed  uncertain  as  to  the  living 
child's  whereabouts.  My  point  is  this:  where 
was  the  so-called  heir  at  the  time  that  last  letter 
was  written  ?  " 

"  Lost,"  said  Dalrymple,  shutting  his  ugly  lips 
as  you  shut  a  window.  "  Lost  in  the  bush,  like 
Maske  himself,  only  the  child's  body  was  not 
found.  The  father  had  tattooed  one  of  the 
eagles  of  his  crest  upon  the  little  chap's  chest 
—  I  am  afraid,  to  further  his  deception.  I  was 
in  all  his  secrets,  as  you  see ;  indeed,  you  may 
call  me  his  accomplice  without  offending  me; 


292  MY  LORD  DUKE 

and  I'm  bound  to  say  I  considered  the  tattooing 
a  smart  idea.  However,  a  judgment  was  at 
hand.  The  child  was  lost  for  many  years.  And 
the  rest  is  easily  told  ;  it  refers  to  me." 

The  squatter  looked  at  Mr.  Sell  wood  —  not 
for  the  first  time.  As  on  the  other  occasions, 
however,  he  ran  his  eyes  against  an  absolutely 
impassive,  pink  countenance. 

"  Mr.  Sellwood  may  remember  my  little 
anecdote  of  the  iron  store,  the  Queensland 
blacks,  and  the  French  eagle  on  the  chest  of  the 
stray  shearer  who  saved  all  our  lives  ?  " 

Mr.  Sellwood  very  slightly  inclined  his  head. 

"  Well,  that  was  the  finding  of  the  soi-disant 
Jack  Dillamore.  I  knew  all  about  him.  For 
his  father's  sake,  I  never  lost  sight  of  him  again  ; 
for  his  father's  sake  (and  also  because  the  idea 
appealed  to  me  personally)  I  allowed  my  old 
chum's  very  reprehensible  plan  to  come  off,  and 
our  friend  Mr.  Cripps  to  lay  hold  of  my  Happy 
Jack  for  the  live  Duke  of  St.  Osmund's :  and 
for  the  sake  of  some  fun  for  my  pains,  I  came 
home  myself  to  see  how  matters  were  progress- 
ing. I'm  bound  to  say  I  was  disappointed. 
Happy  Jack  had  grown  tamer  than  I  could  have 
believed  possible  in  the  time.  And  hang  me  if 
the  fellow  wasn't  in  love  !  My  disgust  was 
such  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  taking  myself 


DE  MORTUIS  293 

off  this  very  afternoon,  and  leaving  the  sup- 
posititious Duke  (whom  it  wasn't  mi/  business 
to  depose)  to  marry  and  save  the  Upper  House 
by  the  example  of  high  morality  he  seemed  cer- 
tain to  set ;  but  at  the  last  moment  I  discovered 
his  trouble.  He  was  found  out  without  my 
assistance ;  he  was  cutting  a  worse  figure  than 
was  in  any  way  necessary ;  and  was  about  to 
lose,  not  only  the  title  and  emoluments  he  had 
enjoyed  for  some  months,  but  the  charming  girl 
whom  he  had  fairly  won  in  love.  That  seemed 
a  trifle  too  hard !  I  determined  to  speak  out. 
I  have  done  so :  and  I  am  prepared  to  prove 
every  word  I  have  said.  The  certificate  now  in 
your  pocket,  Mr.  Cripps,  was  not  the  only  one 
I  had  in  mine.  At  the  moment,  however,  there's 
no  more  to  be  said  —  except  a  few  words  with 
reference  to  Jack  Greenfield's  future.  He  has 
suffered  enough.  I  have  been,  if  not  at  the 
bottom  of  it,  at  all  events  to  blame  in  the 
matter.  I  have  a  little  inadequate  scheme  of 
reparation,  which  I  shall  submit  to  you,  gentle- 
men, in  order  that  you  may  use  your  influence 
with  Jack,  if  necessary.  The  point  is  that  I  am 
never  going  back  to  Australia  any  more.  I  was 
born  and  brought  up  in  the  old  country,  and 
I've  got  the  taste  for  it  again  during  the  few 
days  I've  been  home.     Indeed,  I  had  never  lost 


294  MY  LORD  DUKE 

the  taste  ;  but  I  don't  intend  to  run  the  risk  any- 
more. I  am  lucky  enough  to  own  one  of  the 
crack  sheep-stations  of  New  South  Wales.  I 
shall  want  a  permanent  manager  in  my  absence. 
I  needn't  tell  you  who  is  the  very  man  for  that 
billet.     Jack  Greenfield  —  if  he'll  take  it." 

"A  good  house?"  said  Mr.  Sell  wood  casually. 

"  The  best  homestead  in  the  Riverina.  Trust 
me  for  that." 

Mr.  Sellwood  said  no  more.  His  mind  was 
made  up  :  better  lose  his  daughter  than  have 
her  break  her  heart.  He  could  not  forget  the 
earlier  experiences  of  the  evening.  The  sur- 
prises of  this  hour  were  enchanting  compared 
with  the  embarrassments  of  the  last.  Then  he 
had  no  reason  to  doubt  Dairy mple's  word  as  to 
Jack's  actual  antecedents  ;  where  he  doubted  it, 
was  in  another  matter  altogether.  At  this  point 
in  his  reflections,  however,  and  with  the  inevi- 
table discussion  of  the  immaterial  points  still 
raging  around  him,  Mr.  Sellwood  was  brought 
to  his  feet  by  the  violent  opening  of  the  billiard- 
room  door  and  an  agitated  apparition  of  his 
wife  upon  the  threshold.  Something  was  the 
matter:  had  the  lovers  eloped?  No;  with  Mary 
Freke  they  were  at  the  heels  of  Lady  Caroline, 
who  came  the  length  of  the  room  at  something 
ludicrously  like  a  run  —  her  very  fringe  awry. 


DE  MORTUIS  295 

and  a  horrified  glance  shooting  from  the  corner 
of  each  eye  at  the  nonchalant,  well-preserved 
figure  of  Dairy mple  the  squatter. 

"  Do  you  know  what  they  are  saying  down- 
stairs?" cried  her  Ladyship,  looking  as  far  as 
was  possible  at  everybody  at  once.  "  Matthew 
Hunt  is  here,  and  do  you  know  what  he  is  saying? 
That  neither  Jack  nor  Claude  is  the  Duke  of  St. 
Osmund's,  but  you  —  you  —  you  !  "  And  she 
turned  like  a  podgy  tigress  upon  none  other 
than  the  squatter  himself. 

"  I  could  have  told  him  that,"  remarked  Mr. 
Sellwood  calmly;  he  had  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion exactly  ten  seconds  before. 

"I  shall  tell  him  something  he  doesn't  bargain 
for  —  the  born  idiot !  "  added  the  squatter  sotto 
voce. 

"  Then  you  believe  it  ?  "  cried  Lady  Caroline 
to  her  husband.     "  You  must  be  mad  ! " 

"  Your  Ladyship  is  so  right ;  it  would  indeed 
be  madness  to  dream  of  entertaining  so  pre- 
posterous a  notion  ! "  cried  Mr.  Cripps,  who  was 
literally  dancing  with  disbelief.  "  Even  Mr. 
Dairy  mple  will  hardly  go  as  far  as  that.  He 
has  gone  farther  already  than  the  law  will 
follow  him;  we'll  do  him  the  justice  to  hold 
him  irresponsible  for  this  absurd  report!  He 
knows  as  well  as  we  do  that  the   Marquis  of 


296  MY  LORD  DUKE 

Maske  was  found  dead  in  the  bush  ;  of  that  we 
have  absolute  proof.  Even  if  we  hadn't,  who 
has  recognized  him  ?  Has  he  one  single  witness 
to  his  identity  ?     If  so,  let  him  be  called  !  " 

"  The  gentleman  is  excited,"  remarked  Dal- 
rymple,  ringing  the  bell.  "  Does  it  really  not 
occur  to  him  that  I  might  have  found  myself 
dead  in  the  bush,  and  authenticated  my  own 
death  by  very  obvious  methods?  Is  it  incon- 
ceivable that  a  young  man  with  my  then  repu- 
tation should  jump  at  the  chance  of  dying  on 
paper  —  if  you  will  permit  the  expression  ? 
Such  a  death  offers  unusual  advantages,  a  sec- 
ond birth  among  others.  However,  I  never 
meant  to  be  born  again,  least  of  all  in  this  rather 
melodramatic  manner ;  but  I  couldn't  resist  com- 
ing home  to  see  the  fun,  and  it  serves  me  right 
to  have  to  stop  and  pay  the  score.  Witnesses  ? 
I  had  certainly  no  intention  of  calling  any  to- 
night ;  but  now  that  my  hand  has  been  forced 
it  can't  be  helped.  The  elder  Hunt  is  one ;  knew 
me  at  sight ;  and  here  comes  Stebbings  for  an- 
other. Shut  the  door  behind  you,  Stebbings,  and 
answer  a  couple  of  questions.  It's  generally 
supposed  that  you  were  drunk  yesterday  when  I 
arrived.     Were  you,  or  were  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  was  not,  your  Grace." 

"  '  Your  Grace,'  you  see  !  "  repeated  the  squat- 


DE  MORTUIS  297 

ter.  "I'm  afraid  that  was  premature,  Steb- 
bings !  However,  if  you  were  not  drunk,  and 
you  certainly  conveyed  that  impression,  what 
was  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Nervousness  !  "  cried  Stebbings,  who  was 
sufficient!}^  nervous  now.  "  I  had  seen  the 
dead  !     I  had  recognised  your  Grace  !  " 

"  Exactly  ;  and  I  swore  at  you  as  a  blind,  to 
explain  the  complete  state  of  collapse  that  you 
were  in.  That's  all,  Stebbings ;  you  may  go. 
Jack,  I  see  your  face  !  You  wonder  you  didn't 
spot  it  at  the  time?  Stebbings  backed  me  up, 
or  else  you  would  have  done ;  for  my  part,  I 
confess  I  was  more  frightened  when  you  found 
us  talking  together  in  my  room,  when  I  was 
packing.  I  assure  you  all,  I  meant  to  clear  out 
then ;  believe  it  or  not,  it's  the  case.  In  spite 
of  what  I  said  just  now,  I'm  not  so  wedded  to 
an  English  life  as  I  fancied  Jack  was ;  and  I 
had  no  idea  at  the  time  that  his  position  was  at 
all  insecure.  Yes,  my  boy,  you  were  welcome 
to  the  whole  thing !  I  was  going  back  to  the 
bush " 

'•'•You  were  going  back!"  cried  Jack,  coming 
forward ;  and  Olivia  came  also,  flushed  with  a 
joy  that  rendered  her  uniquely  indifferent  to 
the  great  disclosure.  Jack  was  hers.  What 
did  it  matter  who  was  the  Duke? 


298  MY  LORD  DUKE 

"  To  be  sure  I  was,"  said  the  squatter ;  "  but 
now  I  think  it  will  have  to  be  you  after  all. 
What  do  you  say  to  managing  Carara?  What 
do  you  say,  Miss  Sell  wood,  to  helping  him  to  try? 
You  must  talk  to  your  father  about  it.  And  for 
heaven's  sake,  Jack,  don't  thank  me  ;  I've  been 
the  worst  friend  you  ever  had  in  your  life." 

Mr.  Sell  wood  was  already  speaking  to  his  wife. 
Jack  and  their  daughter  stood  hand-in-hand  be- 
side them.  The  new  Duke  turned  his  back 
and  joined  Claude  on  his  lounge.  The  solici- 
tor had  beaten  a  retreat ;  the  Frekes  had  done 
so  before  him ;  and  the  rest  of  their  party,  in- 
cluding Jack,  did  so  uow.  But  Jack  returned 
before  either  Claude  or  the  squatter  had  left 
the  room. 

"  The  worst  friend  I  ever  had ! "  said  he 
reproachful  1}^  as  he  took  his  old  master's  hand. 
"  What  should  I  be  doing  to-night  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you  ?  You  may  say  what  you  like ; 
you've  helped  to  make  me  the  happiest  man 
in  all  the  world.  I  can  marry  her  after  all ! 
Mr.  Sellwood's  as  white  a  man  as  I  know; 
even  Lady  Caroline  has  just  given  us  best ! 
Bi;t  you"  —  and  he  laid  an  affectionate  rough 
hand  on  Claude's  shoulder  — "  dear  old  boy, 
what  can  I  say  to  you?  I'm  ashamed  to  look 
you  in  the  face.     You've  lost  everything !  " 


DE  MORTUIS  299 

Claude  was  very  pale;  the  other's  honest 
eyes  were  shining  with  sympathy  beneath  their 
bushy  brows ;  but  the  new  Duke  laughed 
aloud. 

"Lost  everything?"  he  cried.  "Not  a  bit 
of  it !  I'm  not  going  to  live  for  ever,  and 
Claude's  exactly  where  he  was  —  the  next  man 
in.  You  think  not?  And  have  you  known 
me  all  these  years,  and  do  you  really  and  truly 
expect  me  to  marry  again?  Jack — my  boy  — 
have  I  to  tell  you  how  it  is  with  me  ?  I  have 
been  a  bad  old  lot  in  my  time ;  but  one  woman 
I  once  loved  well  enough  to  spoil  me  for  ever 
for  all  the  rest." 

He  paused  an  instant,  and  it  was  quite  a 
tender  hand  he  laid  on  Jack's  shoulder. 

"  And  there's  one  man  I  love  for  her  sake ! " 


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